Reversed Roles
by Unknown Stranger Sees All
Summary: What if Sam was the older brother instead? Over done and done before I know but I just can't help it. Rating for some language and some slightly intense mentions of how violent some past abuse was. Anyway, enjoy
1. Chapter 1

_**ok, I got this idea from reading other stories from authors where Sam is the older brother... so... let's see how this goes..**_

_**I own nothing :"( **_

Sam Winchester was loving life right at the moment. The perfect girl, decent apartment, and what looked like a sturdy life in the subject of law.

He loved this life, but deep down, knew there was something missing. Or someone. Yes, he was missing someone from the life he left behind three years ago, almost four. His little brother, Dean. He shoved his textbook away from him, feeling too distracted, too guilty, to study. He always regretted leaving his barely fifteen year old brother alone with a stubborn-assed father in the world they grew up in. Hell, what Dean was still growing up in. He knew he should've dragged Dean along with him. Sam had always regretted that one look in his little brother's eyes on the night he left.

_It hadn't been a good night to begin with. Looking like it was ready to storm. Sam had sighed heavily, turning away from looking out the motel's window, to the exception letter to Stanford laying in his lap. How was he going to tell this to their dad, more importantly, Dean. He sighed again, now looking to the teenager that had just come out of the bathroom. He hadn't gotten as tall as him yet, but he was getting there, he still had some more growing left to do. Dean looked up at his older brother, and when Sam caught his eyes, his breath caught in his throat. Slowly, Dean walked over to him, holding out his hand, an envelope held tightly in it. He wasn't looking at Sam anymore, just staring at the floor. The eighteen year old looked slightly nervous, still just staring at his brother._

_ " Dean?" he asked hesitantly. Dean looked up at him for a split second, before looking back at the floor. He shuffled his feet a little, the smallest of blushes staring to form in his cheeks. He looked back up at his brother, before finally making eye contact, and finding his voice as well. _

_" Open it, Sam. Its for you," he made a gesture with his chin, pointing it at the still outstretched hand, the one still holding an envelope. Sam finally got the courage to take it, and almost started tearing up at the shaky scrawl on the front of the envelope. __**Sammy. **__It said. Sam took a few deep breaths before carefully tearing open the envelope. Then he finally allowed one or two tears to fall. _

_For there, inside of the envelope, was a card. Albeit it wasn't fancy, probably was picked up at some rundown gas station or something, but it was what kind of card it was that made the tears finally come out to the world. The front of it was a light blue, almost white, with a few balloons on it, each going in different directions. He opened it up, and there was one word that made the eighteen year old lose his breath again. __**Congratulations, **__is what the card had said, nothing more. However there was more written there, by the same scrawl on the front of the envelope. He started to read it._

_**like the card says, congratulations, Sammy. I always knew it would happen. Go put that freaky brain of yours to action other than finding research to kill shit. I'm proud of you.**_

_**Dean.**_

_Sam was openly letting some tears fall now. He looked back up at his little brother, who was still standing in front of him, shuffling his feet rather awkwardly, as if he didn't know whether to sit, or stay, or just walk away. He was still making eye contact though, and for that Sam was surprised. He cleared his throat a little._

_" How did you know? " Sam pleaded the answer in his head wasn't the same answer his brother was about to say. He really hoped it wasn't._

_"Because I answered your phone one day, while you were in the bathroom," he started, voice quiet, but full of emotion. Sam shut his eyes, he felt terrible, his brother had found out on his own, he didn't even have to tell him, and for some reason, that made him feel guilty. _

"Sam?" Sam was jolted out of his trance like state to see Jess, standing in the doorway.

"Yeah? What's wrong?" and he could tell something was, her stance was off, like she was nervous or something.

" There's a guy here, asking to see you, I didn't know if you wanted me to let him in, said it was kinda important," Sam was surprised, he wasn't expecting anyone. In the back of his mind he had a small (huge), hope that it was his brother, but knew it wasn't likely. He had tried calling numerous times, for both Dean and his father's phones and both of them were disconnected. He tried Bobby, but he didn't know anything, simply stating that he and John had a fight a few months back, and he hasn't heard from them since. Sam had asked him what the fight was about, but all Bobby did was say it wasn't his place to say, and had hung up.

"Alright, I'll see what he wants," and with that he walked out of the bedroom, and all the way to the door before casting a small reassuring smile to his girlfriend, and walked out the door, and quietly shut it. He looked at the door handle for a moment, before turning to face his visitor.

He was around six to six two, dark blonde, almost brown hair, and had on a leather jacket that for some reason, looks vaguely familiar to Sam. He could see the tenseness of the stranger's shoulders, and saw how fit and muscular this guy really was. Despite being shorter, he would have Sam down in an instant.

"Can I help you?" the now twenty-two year old asked. He was still staring at the man, trying to get a good look at his face...

"I sure as hell hope so, 'cause I don't know what else to do," the voice was gravelly, rough, but somehow Sam could hear the familiar innocence it once had, and immediately wanted to hug this Stranger, but nervous his guesses would be all wrong.

The man finally looked up, and for some reason, Sam's eyes couldn't help but to widen slightly.

"Dean,"


	2. Chapter 2

_**I till don't own anything. Damn it.**_

_" Dean,"..._

The now identified man looked slightly shocked at the name, as if he wasn't expecting Sam to remember. Sam just kept staring into those eyes, though, the ones of forest green mixed with shiny new emerald. Ones he had only seen on two people, his mother, and Dean. That's how he knew, that this was him and that his guesses were in fact, correct. This was his little brother. The eyes gave the answer away.

" Sam, uh, hey... long time no see," Dean spoke, the smallest of grins on his face. If it could even be counted as a grin, it looked forced. Sam finally had caught himself staring and had finally stopped, only to take on his brother's appearance.

Tall, around six foot one, with a super muscular build. His face had changed. A little leaner, slimmer, that it had once been. Slight stubble running across his chin, as if he hadn't shaved in awhile. The invisible freckles on his face had gotten a little less noticeable, but defiantly still there. His hair was darker, as it got every few years. His eyes, though, those stayed the same. Still that beautiful green color that was so hard to describe, and almost impossible to sketch out unless you had a picture. Sam noticed something, though, something off. His left eye, though still beautiful, had a faded purple, almost black ring around it, as if he had gotten hit...

Dean cleared his throat, trying to get his brother's staring to stop. It was, in all honesty, making him feel uncomfortable. Sam jumped slightly, eyes widening, before looking down at his brother. Dean cleared his throat again,

"Um, hey," he sounded uncomfortable, and Sam couldn't blame him. What do you say to the brother that had left you three almost four years ago when you just turn up on their doorstep, claiming it was an emergency?

" Hey, uh Jess said you said it was an emergency, what's wrong?" Sam just hoped and prayed that this emergency had nothing to do with hunting. Deep down though, he knew it would be.

" Yeah, uh, look, um.." Dean started, looking more uncomfortable than he was just moments ago.

"Uh, dad he... he's missing," Dean had all but stuttered out. Looking rather relieved that the elephant in the room, or hallway, had just been announced. Sam just stared and him. Their dad, one of the best hunters anyone had ever really seen, was missing. That through him in for the loop because, well, damn. Before Sam could question anything, however, Dean spoke up again.

" He uh, was hunting, um, alone. And he sent me a tape, for me to find him," as Dean started getting to the end of his sentence, his ears started turning slightly red. Embarrassment, Sam thought, but why?

" Thing is... I can't figure it out," there it was. Sam almost laughed at his little brother, for thinking he should be embarrassed for not being able to figure out a message, but didn't. Dean's face usually held little to no emotion to all, it usually being the latter, but now, his face held something. Sam looked at his face, and the only answer he could think of was, guilt. Ashamed, something that shouldn't be there.

" So you came here, for...help?" Sam finished knowing Dean wouldn't be able to start back up again if he really was that embarrassed, which he shouldn't be. Dean looked relieved again, probably for the fact that he didn't need to admit to needing help. He never was keen on it, probably because John told him that needing help was weakness, Sam thought. He saw Dean nod his head. Sam sighed.

He really wanted to help his little brother, he really did. But, well damn, what was going to tell Jessica? ' hey babe, guess what? My dad has most likely been kidnapped by some weird creature that my brother I never told you I had needs help hunting down. See you in a few days'? Sam's thoughts were, however, broke, when surprisingly, Dean spoke up again.

"Look I know you don't want to do this, with this.." he waved his hand around, trying to come up with a word to say.

"Life, but Sam, please, I really need you on this one. I know you and dad hadn't left on the best of terms.." Sam snorted at that. Best of terms? Not at all, unless you called arguing at the top of your lungs for an hour, and someone eventually having blood on their knuckles leaving at the best of terms, they hadn't left off even close to okay.

" But I'm at my last chance here, Sam, please?" Dean looked up at his brother, his eyes pleading more than a few words would ever do. Sam mentally groaned, he could never deny his brother anything.

" Okay, okay." " But I have got to be back on Monday, all right?" Sam hoped that was a good enough answer for his brother, hoping that three and a half days would help him out enough. By the look on Dean's face, it was more than Dean thought he would get. He had a huge relieved grin on his face, making him look like he just got praised by their father, which was something that almost never happened.

" Yeah! Okay, sure, fine, perfect!" he was still smiling. Sam couldn't help but to smile back. He really wanted to hug his brother, or question him about the black eye, but he knew just how well that would go down. Especially the first of those choices.

He left Dean in the hallway, telling him that he needed to go pack some things, and tell his girlfriend he would be gone for a few days. He made up some story about their father injured in the line of duty, and might not make it. Jess didn't look like she believed it, but went along with it anyway, just telling him to be careful. Dean waited outside for him, and they went outside and walked right into the moonlight. When Sam saw the black beauty sitting in the parking lot, he grinned. The Impala truly was beautiful. It still looked as good as new, and Sam couldn't help but wonder why his brother had it.

"Did dad give you the Impala?" he tried his best to not feel guilty, but was failing. Their father wasn't keen on giving out presents, sometimes not even remembering their birthdays for Christ's sake, but giving away the impala, was like winning the lotto jackpot three million two days in a row. Sam felt guilty though. Even John had remembered Dean's birthday, and he hadn't even called, let alone tell someone to tell him happy birthday. For three and a half years he didn't call, or text, for birthdays, Christmas, or congratulate his brother for graduating high school. Sam was thrown out if his guilt party, though, when Dean answered the question.

" Yeah," he smiled, " For my sixteenth," Sam could've laughed at the expression on his brother's face. It looked like pride, in the impala. Sam had always known that Dean had loved that car, and his face right there showed it. Dean kept walking to the trunk, and opened it up. He started rummaging through some bags, which ultimately got Sam's mood to go way down, from amused to pissed right in a matter of thirteen seconds. The bags were full of weapons, gun rock salt, knives, you name it. Then there was only one bag of clothes. He wasn't mad at his little brother, no, he was mad a their father. Because of him, Dean had pretty much every kind of handheld weapon known to man, all in his fucking trunk! Sam turned to interrogate his brother, when he stopped. He felt the slightest bit of fear rise up to his stomach. In the moonlight Dean looked completely different. In the hall, there wasn't good enough lighting in there to see everything. But out here, under a bright streetlight _and_ the moonlight, he got a front row look.

Dean was pale, far too pale for Sam's liking. Thinner, too, though that didn't even compare to the worrying thought when he realized how thin Dean looked now, while he was wearing at least three jackets. Without all of those jackets on, he would most likely look like a walking skeleton. And the now faded black eye, well that wasn't even a black eye, no because there was another one right under his other eye, too. No, those black eyes, were actually looking a lot more like sleep deprivation marks under his eyes. Sam was now in overprotective mode, even if he didn't want to be, but in this case, he wanted to be. He put a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder, and when Dean turned to look at him, Sam pulled him into a hug. Dean was immediately tense, not hugging back. After a few seconds, however, he complied, wrapping his arms around Sam's waist. Sam felt a lot more worry though, when he realized that his brother's waist was thin enough for his arms to wrap around him, twice.


	3. Chapter 3

_**ok thanks to all of you. jeez you guys review fast.**_

_wrap around his waist. twice._

Sam finally let Dean go, but not before hugging him tightly. Dean pulled away too, and handed his brother a video tape. Sam took it, but the tape was the last thing on his mind. His brother was skinny enough to pass of as anorexic. He was only eighteen. When Sam came out of his stupor, he found Dean opening up the driver's door, ready to get in. What Sam said next made him freeze.

"How long has it been since you've eaten?" Dean froze, and said simply,

"Get in the car, Sam," before getting in himself and shutting the door. Sam sighed, thinking he was going to have to push a little harder to get any acceptable answer from his little brother. He got in the passenger's seat, strapped in and simply listened to the car rumble to life. The inside of the Impala looked just as good as the outside. As if it was made just yesterday. He couldn't help but to grin slightly. This was Dean's car, in every way, shape and form. He jumped slightly at the loud sound of Metallica suddenly blasting out the speakers and through the car.

" Metallica? Really?" Dean simply shrugged, pulling out of the parking lot. When they were steady on their way on the highway, he turned to Sam and smiled.

" What? You can't beat the classics," he said, turning back to eye the road. Sam grinned, but it was slightly forced. He still couldn't help but to want to ask Dean questions. _How long has it been since it he's eaten? How long has it been since he'd slept through a night? How long had he and John been out of contact? _Question after question ran through his mind and before the eldest Winchester knew it, he found himself staring at his brother again.

_'CRACK!' _They both jumped at the sudden shock of thunder and lightning. Suddenly, rain crashed down on then as if they were driving into a waterfall.

"Damn, I didn't think it was going to rain," shaking his head, Dean took his hands off of the wheel for a moment to turn on the windshield wipers. When he did, his right sleeve shied up his arm. Sam, who was watching him, noticed something on his arm, and his eyes widened.

"Dean..?" Dean didn't look at him when he answered.

"Hmm," Dean kept his eyes on the road, unbeknownst to him that his sleeve was revealing something that would change everything.


	4. Chapter 4

**_sorry for the last chapter being so short, I didn't realize how short it was until I published it._**

**_I own nothing, still... god dammit!_**

_change everything..._

"What's on your arm?" Sam was still staring at Dean's arm, just staring at it in slight shock and horror. Because there, on his brother's arm, was a burn mark, that looked like it went all the way up his arm. It didn't look too old either. Dean paused, looking down at his arm, finally noticing that it showed the rather gruesome injury, and immediately tried to cover it back up. Sam was too quick, though.

"Dean! no... Dean stop it!" Sam finally caught hold of his brother's arm, and wouldn't let it go, either. Dean had put up a fight, well, as good as one could get when strapped in a seat and still trying to stay on the road. Sam had finally gotten control, and forced Dean to pull over on the side of the highway. There, he unstrapped and turned to face his brother, who was still trying, albeit less so, to break free of his older brother's grip. Sam sighed, only a half hour in and he found many worrying things about his brother. Sam gently pulled his brother's arm closer to him, while he himself was scooting closer to his brother. He looked at Dean, seeing if he was going to explain before he started pushing for answers, and he would be pushing for answers, and wouldn't take no for one of them. Still, Dean didn't say anything, just looked down, anywhere but his arm, or Sam.

As gently as he could, Sam started to move all of the sleeves on his brother's arm, which were a lot, up. After a few minutes of trying, Sam gave up, simply unstrapping Dean himself and moving to start taking of one or two of his jackets and shirts. It worried him that Dean wasn't protesting. It worried him even more that Dean actually helped him. Once he was down to just one flannel, Sam tried again to pull up Dean's sleeve. That was when he started to protest.

"Sam, stop. It's fine, not important," that last statement got to Sam, more than the others. _Does he honestly believe that I wouldn't notice that sometime during this trip, he had a major burn mark on his arm, and fairly recent? Does he honestly think he doesn't matter... that he's not important. _When he looked at his brother, Dean was staring right back at him. Dean wasn't saying anything, but his eyes were pleading. Pleading for Sam to drop this, at least for now. Sam wasn't saying anything either, but his eyes said it all. _We're not done with this, not at all. The second we find a place to stay, I will be looking at your arm._ Dean nodded, understanding his brother, without either of them needing to say a word. Dean just didn't want to fight. Not the day they saw each other again, after three and a half years.

Sam sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head slowly. Dean didn't get that burn mark by his own hand, that much Sam knew for sure. Dean was a better hunter at fifteen than Sam was, hell, maybe at fifteen, even better than their father and Bobby. All Sam knew, was that when he found out who did this to his little brother, there was gonna be hell to pay.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

It was a few hours later when they were too tired to keep driving, either one of them. Sam knew that Dean wasn't going to stop until he really couldn't keep his eyes open, and event then, he knew that wouldn't stop his little brother. Sam knew he was going to prevent them from having to talk about his arm, but Sam wasn't going to give up that easily. They had pulled into this run-down motel, just outside of Michigan's state line. It was just a crappy, rundown Motel 6. It had a rather disturbing, Goth, man running the counter. His nametag called him Thomas. Sam went in to get them a room, while Dean walked to the trunk of the Impala to get their bags. Sam wasn't going to lie, he was really starting to hate this Thomas kid. He was just plain off creepy to begin with, and as it turned out, when Sam got closer to him to rent a room, he was around fifty years old! Not only that, but with the disturbing suggestive smiles he was shooting towards the eighteen year old standing next to the hood of their car, it just made the oldest Winchester want to shoot him in the face. Twice. So, Sam was not in a very good mood at the moment. When Thomas finally handed the room key to Sam, Sam finally spoke up.

"You look at him that way again, and I will kill you," and with that he walked away, not noticing how Thomas' face paled, but only slight.

Sam walked back to the car in time to see Dean closing the trunk and carrying four bags. Two of which were clothes bags, one his one Sam's, and the other two everything they might need to secure the room. Sam noticed behind Dean how the creep behind the counter was making those smiles again. This time, though, Dean noticed it too. Despite the fact that Dean was by far braver than anyone Sam had ever known, Sam still noticed the way Dean started walking slightly closer to him after noticing himself getting stared at. That simply put his overprotectiveness into hyper drive. He put a hand on Dean's shoulder and guided him faster to the motel room. Dean didn't protest. With Dean out of sight of the man, Sam moved his jacket up a bit, revealing a pistol attached to his waist. Thomas saw it too. This time, however, Thomas' face paled and stayed pale. He quickly ran into the back room, turning off the vacancy sign. Sam unlocked the door and pushed his little brother inside, before entering himself.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNS**

The youngest Winchester set down the four bags and sat down on the bed farthest to the door. Normally he would've taken the one closest to it, but he saw the look in Sam's eyes. It was just that look that could be described as nothing other than overprotectiveness, or mother hen mode, as Dean used to call it. Now Dean watched as Sam locked the doors, going as far as putting one of the nightstands against the door, and then salted pretty much everywhere. He wasn't going to lie, he was slightly impressed Sam even remembered to salt at all, let alone use up almost two and a half bags. When Sam had completed protecting he house in almost every way, he kneeled next to his bag, and went to the bathroom and shut the door. Dean sighed in slight relief, thinking that Sam might've forgotten about his arm. He knew Sam would've found out eventually, but you can't blame a guy for trying. He didn't want Sam to know how he got it, either. He knew his older brother wouldn't believe him if he told him it was a hunting accident. Dean wanted to tell his brother the truth too, but, he knew he couldn't.

Sam walked out of the bathroom in a t-shirt and sweatpants, along with a first aid kit in his hand. He saw Dean just sitting there, obviously lost in his own thoughts, by the way his eyes looked. Slowly, he kneeled in front of his brother, Dean still too lost in his thoughts of excuses to tell his brother, to notice him. In fact, Dean didn't even realize Sam was out of the bathroom until he felt his flannel being unbuttoned. That's when he finally snapped out of it, slapping Sam's hands away in the process. He jumped up as well, giving his brother a glare, but not enough heat in it for Sam to be offended.

" What the hell Sam? You almost gave me a freaking heart attack! " Sam rolled his eyes, but didn't retort back. Just simply stood up in front of his brother.

" I need to look at that arm, Dean. I said we weren't done with this, and I meant it," Dean was seriously thinking about saying that he technically didn't say it, but knew it wouldn't help anyway. They always had kind of a second language with one another, consisting simply of looks. Sam saying that with his eyes was just as literal as him saying it out loud. Dean sighed, rubbing a hand down his face, and looked back up at Sam. He knew, even if he didn't say alright now, he's probably wake up to his brother fixing it anyway. If it could even be fixed.

" Alright, fine. Over protective bitch," he muttered, this time with only slight annoyance running his words, no heat at all. Sam grinned slightly.

" Jerk," he said watching his brother as he finally finished unbuttoning his shirt and took it off. Then, no matter how much Sam tried to prevent it, he couldn't help the gasp that escaped him. _Jesus, _Sam thought,_ what the hell happened to my baby brother? _That was the million dollar question. Dean's arm looked like, in the best terms, like shit. Starting from his slim wrist, all the way up to his shoulder blade, and finishing up on the nape of his neck, was burned blistering red. Most of it angry, enflamed and Sam was 99% sure, infected. Pink all around the places where it was burned, but not enough to turn as dark angry red as the other parts of his arm. As Sam looked at it, he noticed his little brothers eyes widening slightly, as well. _He didn't think it was this bad, _he thought, and as he kept looking at his brother's arm, he realized something. _Even if it was a hunting incident, which I still doubt it was, he wouldn't have been able to do that to himself anyway. He wouldn't have been able to reach that far up his arm, or neck for that matter._ Sam now knew for a fact that this was someone else's doing, and although he thought there was going to be hell to pay when he just saw his brother's wrist, it was going to be a whole lot worse for whoever did it now. He watched as Dean himself pulled up a stool from the mini kitchen the motel came with, and sighed when he sat down. Dean looked at his arm, to Sam, then back again. When he spoke, he looked up so emerald green eyes met hazel ones.

_" I... _I didn't know it was this bad... I, I just thought..." he trailed off, looking back down at his arm again. Sam looked at him, for a minute, deciding that Dean was, in fact, telling the truth. He carefully made his way over to his brother's side again, and, as carefully as he could, touched where the burns looked most enflamed. Big mistake, apparently.

" Ouch! damn, son of a bitch! OW, OW, OW!" Dean hissed, jumping of the stool and shaking his arm, trying to get the burning sensation to go away. Sam had jumped too, when Dean had, and when he calmed down, went back to 'Mother Hen Mode'. Sam quickly jumped to Dean's side, carefully calming him down enough for him to grab his brother's hand instead of wrist, and gently blew on his wrist. It didn't seem to help though, because Dean went back to jumping up and down, still screaming curse words along the way. Despite him being younger, he had a mouth that would make sailors go pale. The twenty-two year old knew it was only a matter of time before someone made a complaint,, or that creep Thomas cam to check up on them, so he knew he had to do something to calm the teenager down. Sam did the only thing he could think of at that one moment. Sam quickly got close enough to his little brother, and pulled him close. He pulled him close enough to know that Dean was literally shaking, most likely from the pain being too much, and simply held him there, shushing him gently to attempt to calm him down.

Dean was, like Sam knew, tougher than anyone he had ever met, he even had a higher pain tolerance than their father. The eldest brother knew that this must've really hurt like a bitch, because he suddenly felt one or two tears fall on his t-shirt, where his chest was. That only caused Sam to get even more protective, an action no one would've thought possible. Sam gently maneuvered them so they were now sitting on Dean's bed, Sam sitting up against the headboard and Dean gasping along with the pain in his lap. Sam frowned when he realized he could pick up his brother with the same ease as picking up a little girl.

" Ssh, shh, shh, hey, De," he whispered softly, putting his hands on each side of his little brother's face, lifting his head up so he could see into his eyes. He did. He didn't like what he saw. Dean's usually happy-go-lucky cocky, emerald-forest green eyes, that usually held so much happiness and laughter, which, in the past, could cause Sam's bad mood after fighting with their father form into a happy attitude if he just looked into his little brother's eyes, were filled with horrific pain, agony, and sadness. His green eyes were dull next to the redness inside of his eyes that should be white. Sam gently wiped away a few tears, and whispered,

" It's gonna be alright, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that, but I need to take a look, yeah?" Dean nodded slightly.

" I know, I know you have to, its just..." he trailed off once again, and shut his eyes, causing a few more tears to fall. Sam, however, wiped those away too.

" Its just what, Dean?" he knew he knew the answer, and knew he should've just said, _I know, _or, _its okay,_ because when his little brother said it a few seconds later, it caused Sam's own eyes to fill with tears at the sound of how broken he really was.

" It hurts, Sammy, it hurts so damn bad," Sam didn't know what to say to that, he just held Dean a little closer. Praying to god that he had the chance to find the fucker that did this to his little brother.

_His kid._

_**Was Dean too out of character? I mean, IDK, what do you guys think, your opinion is always appreciated. Also.. Was it too sappy? Tell me what you guys think**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**I would've had like three chapters uploaded by now but NOOO, my computer wanted to be a bitch and delete them all! I apologize for the long delay. I appreciate all who R R.**_

_**I still don't own anything. *important* I know the little summary says past abuse, but I recently read a story of dean being abused (rather good story), and well, I got some more growing ideas.. hopefully you guys still like it.**_

On Michigan's state line, at a crappy rundown motel, room 6, a six foot four, twenty two year old was watching his six foot one, eighteen year old little brother sleep.

Sam had given his little brother some painkillers, and they had surprisingly effected him in less than four minutes, though the pills claimed to start taking affect in ten minutes, (at least for someone of Dean's age). He had cleaned up his brother's burned up arm the best he could, saving his brother some pain and aging by wrapping the bandage in disinfecting burn ointment and then wrapping the bandage around him. Dean was out before they could out a shirt on him. Meaning Sam could see his bare back and chest. Also meaning, Sam wouldn't be leaving 'Mother Hen Mode', for a long, long, time. Despite the fact that he could literally see _every single _one of Dean's ribs, (hell, by how skinny he was, Sam wouldn't be surprised if he would be able to see his lungs or heart, too), Dean's entire torso, from the bottom of his neck and breastbone, down all the way to where the elastic rim of the sweatpants he was wearing, was covered, bathed, in scars. Some old, some new. From the smallest of white lines that were barely to not noticeable, to some still slightly red and as long as his middle itself. Which was true, because the scar Sam's eyes kept driving back to, was fairly recent, no more than half a month old, started from Dean's good shoulder, all the way down, once again, to his sweatpants' rim.

Sam couldn't tell if it was from a hunt gone wrong, considering it did look like it could've come from claws of an animal, but it looked too straight. Claw scratches usually looked sort of jagged, a little uneven. This, though, this looked like a blade's doing. Sam couldn't remember the last time he had seen Dean with his shirt off, but he knew there weren't nearly enough scars back then for him to worry about. The more Sam thought, the more he kept remembering things, memories, and he suddenly found himself back in time, once again watching the night he left.

_ Sam closed his eyes. His brother had found out on his own, Sam didn't even need to tell him, but for some reason, that made it a whole lot worse..._

_" When are you leaving?" Sam opened his eyes to look at Dean. His brother was looking down again, looking fragile, his voice small. He was really tempted to tell his brother that he would never leave, but that would be a lie. _

_" Leaving where?" the gruff voice of John Winchester startled them both. They hadn't realized he had come in. Dean quickly whispered sorry to Sam, but Sam just shook his head, shaking off the apology. In Sam's head, it wasn't his fault Not even close. In Dean's head, it was his fault their father heard. _

_Time had passed, and neither of the boys had said anything. And John's patience was running thin. He never was a patient person, and probably never would be. He noticed a piece of paper on his eldest son's lap, and his patience ran out. While both of his boys were in what seemed to be stupor, he marched over to Sam, and snatched the paper away. That seemed to get them out of it. John skimmed the paper quickly, and his temper flared. He needed to speak with his eldest. Now._

_" Dean go to your room," his voice was frighteningly calm, but Dean still stood his ground, next to Sam. Despite him being proud of him for standing up to their father, Sam knew it was a wrong move. _

_" NOW, Dean!" he still didn't move, though, and John had enough. He grabbed his youngest by the shoulder and forcefully pushed him in the direction of the second bedroom's door. A little too hard though, because Dean lost his balance slightly, and his head smacked the edge of the door, hard. Before Dean could stand straight or Sam could see if his little brother was okay, John pushed Dean inside the bedroom and shut the door, locking it from the outside. Not before they heard another thump from the inside though, too loud to just be a bump into the wall. Dean had most likely gone down. _

_Sam was about to go to him when he was pushed up against a wall by John. And couldn't get away. _

_" Were you just not going to tell me?! Where you just going to leave us and NOT TELL US,?!" he was screaming by the end of his questioning, and that was enough for Sam's temper to be released. _


	6. Chapter 6

_**I once again apologize for the last chapter being so short. This chapter will most likely be longer, I hope. This chapter will also finish the story of what really happened the night Sam left.**_

_**I own nothing... if I did, though, (Tons of shit would and wouldn't have happened).**_

_Enough for Sam's temper to be released..._

_Sam forcefully pushed his father off of him, glaring all the way. John stumbled, but only slightly, before finding his strength again and stood tall. _

_" Well?!" he started up again, " Do you have anything to say?!" _

_" Yeah, you know what, I do. I'm eighteen years old, a legal adult, you know what that means, it means, I CAN MAKE MY OWN CHOICES! " Sam screamed. John looked, in all means, slightly confused, but that confusion turned to even more anger. _

_" Yeah, you can make your own choices, " that one threw Sam in for a loop, until John spoke up again. " As long as they actually result in something positive!" _

_" They are resulting into something positive! I can get an education for something other than hunting, I could get out of this hell hole of a life, and for once in my life, be NORMAL! " Sam hoped he would get through to his father. He was tired, and already emotional, and to top it off, worried for Dean. That loud thump didn't sound good, and he hadn't heard anything else since then, not even the shuffling sounds of him getting back on his feet. _

_" How would you even pay for it!? Because if you honestly think I'm going to-" Sam cut him off_

_" I got a full ride scholarship, tuition free, everything paid for. And I'm going. " _

_" So what? Your just going to leave this, leave Dean?, behind?" John couldn't speak up again even if he wanted to, because he was now being slammed up against the wall by his son. And boy did his son look ticked off. _

_" Don't you dare play that card with me! Dean knows why I have to go, he knows I want out of this life, and hell, even he's okay with it!" _

_John looked ready to protest, but before he could, Sam threw what looked to be a card at his chest. He clumsily caught it, and while he started to read it, Sam started talking again._

_" HE gave that to me, HE congratulated me, HE'S even telling me to go! And he was the last person I suspected to be okay with it. But no, your the stubborn asshole who thinks he can ruin my life by not accepting this-"_

_This time, Sam was the one that was cut off. He stumbled back, hand holding the side of his face, and looked up to see John, his father, lowering his fist. He pulled his hand away, to see a small pool of blood smeared across the palm of his hand. He carelessly wiped it on his jeans, not even caring the slightest anymore. _

_" Don't you DARE, take that tone with me, Samuel," his father all but growled out loudly. Sam could've laughed out loud at that thought. The thought that their father, honestly thought that that was the first time Sam used that tone in this entire bitch fest. He would've smiled and laughed, but, hey, bleeding face over here, it just wasn't an appealing option anymore. _

_" Don't you DARE, think that you can take this away from me, " he snapped back, grabbing his duffel and slinging it across his shoulder. He folded the acceptance letter and out it back in his pocket, and started walking towards the door. He didn't hear his father unlocking the bedroom door, he also didn't hear the sound of something falling to the ground. He had just opened it, when he felt something, more importantly, someone, pull him back in to the motel room. By this time, Sam has had more than more than enough. He turned, fist already flying when he stopped frozen at the sight in front of him._

_There, standing in front of him, albeit clumsily, was Dean. And laying on the floor, unconscious, was their father, John Winchester. Sam looked from his little brother to his father, and then back to Dean. Dean had a rather good amount of blood fountaining out of the side of his head, and it looked like, to Sam, the same situation on the back of his head. It may have been the wrong time to think it, but he was extremely proud of his brother at the moment. Even with an expected mild head concussion, he could still manage to hit their father hard enough to knock him out, and pull a good one hundred and something pounds back into a motel room. _

_Dean was swaying, so when Sam kneeled down in front of him, he wasn't surprised to see him finally fall so he was leaning against him. He was surprised though, to find that he had meant to do it, considering his little brother's arms were now wrapped around his upper chest, face buried in his neck. He gently wrapped his arms around him too, and nearly cried at the words he spoke next._

_" You should get going, before he wakes up, I can handle him," Sam pulled away to look at his brother in shock. His little brother, who had always followed their father's orders without hesitation, was now talking about standing up to him, by himself, so he could get away without another argument occurring. Dean caught his eyes, and shrugged. He eyes then widened slightly, pulling back from Sam fully, now, he started walking away._

_" Stay there for a sec," and with that he dragged his way to their room, walking a lot like a man fully wasted. Sam just kneeled there, confused, until Dean came back out, something folded in his hand. He hobbled back over to him, and once again, reached his arm out, holding something out for Sam to take. _

_" Got this a few months ago, I've been saving up since then, waiting for a good time to give it to you," Dean had a slight smirk on his face when Sam looked at him. " Now's probably the best time to do it," Sam smirked a little too, taking whatever was in Dean's hand and putting it in his own. He just stared at it, when he noticed what it was. _

_There, in his hand, was over three hundred dollars. Sam looked at Dean, shaking his head and pushing the money back to him. Dean simply folded Sam's hand back, and keeping it back with both of his hands. He smiled, an actual smile this time._

_" I figured you might need gas money, and food, California isn't just around the corner, you know." Sam blushed slightly, now realizing that he actually didn't think about gas money, or food, for that matter. Sam pulled Dean in for a hug._

_" Thank you," he whispered, and softly placed a kiss on the side of Dean's head. Dean blushed slightly, hugging back, before whispering,_

_" I just got two favors to ask of you," _

_" Anything," and Sam meant it._

_" Promise me you'll call, or write, or something," " I promise, I promise, " _

_" Good," Dean said approvingly, Sam gave him a curious look. _

_" What's the second favor? " he asked, Dean had one of those smirks on his face, and said_

_" I need you to place me on the couch or bed or something," he said softly. Sam still gave him a quizzical look. _

_" Why? " Dean gave him an eye roll, and smiled again, before answering._

_" Because I'm gonna pass out now," and, true to his word, Sam watched as Dean's eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he went limp in his big brother's arms. Sam couldn't help but chuckle slightly. Doing that, it was just somehow... so Dean. He quietly carried his baby brother to the bed, and tucked him in, but not before wrapping his head up in gauze. On his way out, he passed by their father's unconscious form, stared at it for a split moment, and kept walking. Right out the door. _

Unaware of what would happen in those three and a half years in with his absence.


	7. Chapter 7

_**sorry, I keep thinking their longer than they are. I'm trying though. If you guys have any ideas or suggestions just leave a review or PM me.**_

Sam woke up with a start, jumping out of the chair he had slept on. He looked around, confused at the sunlight, then it hit him. He had fallen asleep, _huh, _he thought, _must've dozed off while reliving such happy memories, _he laughed a humorless laugh. He looked down, and saw Dean, still fast asleep on the bed, practically dead to the world. He looked so innocent, less stressed, when he sleeps, Sam noted. He frowned when he was brought back to checking Dean's injuries. He unwrapped the bandage the best he could while he was sleeping, and quickly re-wrapped it when he was finished. The burns would take a long while to heal, but they would, eventually. His brother's torso, however, looked a lot more worse. Dean was looking in fact, like a walking skeleton, every single bone from his jaw to his waist, could be seen. Every single one.

Sam quickly got dressed, wrote a note to his brother, and left to get some breakfast. He came back about an hour later, with many bags of food. He could hear someone in the bathroom, so just started taking the food out of the bags, placing it on the small kitchen table their room had.

" I got food," he said, when he heard the bathroom door open. He could hear Dean walk around behind him. When he turned to hand him a coffee, he froze.

Dean was digging around his clothes bag, wearing nothing but jeans, leaving his bare back facing Sam.

He back was even worse than his torso and front. On his back, there wasn't a single place on his back that didn't have a scar, or by the looks of some of them, burns. His entire spinal cord was showing, too. And that made Sam fell slightly sick to the stomach, he shouldn't be that skinny, not even close. Hell, it shouldn't even be that possible to be that skinny.

Dean turned back around, putting his t-shirt on in the process. It didn't help matters, though. If anything, it made his bones look more outlined, more highlighted, more noticeable. But Dean's eyes weren't on Sam, they were on the food. There was a lot, like, holy shit. It looked like his brother had bought a whole damned mini mart. Sam noticed his staring, and asked innocently enough,

" What?" Dean looked at him with a quizzical expression, and raised an eyebrow in the process. Sam shrugged.

" It looks like you bought a whole damn gas station, Sam,"

" So?" Dean rolled his eyes, his brother really was a weird one.

" So, it's not like we're gonna starve to death or something, " Sam wanted to protest to 'not anymore', but he simply stated the more obvious, and the one that's harder to deny.

" Dean, man, your like a walking skeleton, your underweight, too underweight for an eighteen year old, "

" I am not, Sam, I think you're overreacting," Sam suppressed a sigh, his brother really was a stubborn ass. Knowing words would never get to him, he simply walked over to Dean, and before he could protest, he lifted him up, off the ground. Dam yelped slightly, gripping Sam's arms so he would have some support if he fell. Sam set him back on the ground, and crossed his arms.

" I should NOT be able to lift you up that easily, your all muscle, and even then, you practically weigh the same as a little girl. Face it, your underweight," Sam just stared at Dean, waiting for him to say something. Eventually, he did. It just wasn't what Sam was hoping for.

" I'm fine, Sam. So maybe I am a little underweight" he was slightly cut off by Sam snorting at his words. ' A little' didn't even come close to being the right words. Nonetheless, Dean finished his sentence.

" But I'll be fine, hell I am fine. It's not a big deal," Sam just stared at his little brother. Then, he simply kept the conversation (more like interrogation) going. He wasn't going to drop this, this was dangerous, health wise. He knew that when he was eighteen, he weighed around 175 pounds. And that was average for someone with a build like him, mostly muscle, with not much, but still some fat. Dean though, Dean was all muscle and bones. That should get him in the 160's range, but he sure as hell wasn't in that range. Not by a long shot.

" How much do you weigh?" Dean groaned, rolling his eyes and sitting back down on the edge of his bed, now with a cup of black coffee in his hands.

" Are you serious? Sam I'm fine," this time Sam rolled his eyes, but still wouldn't let this go.

" No, you're not. When I was your age I was in the 175 range, even though I still had a good one foot and so many inches on you back then, you still should weigh about the same now, as I did back then," Sam was getting through to him, but only slightly. Dean still needed a little convincing.

" Look, all I'm asking for here is for you to let weigh you," at his little brother's incredulous look, he kept talking.

" There's a scale in the bathroom, just step on it and let me see how much you weigh, if you weigh enough fine. If you don't, you're going to eat that food," he jerked his head towards their dinky little kitchen table, which was now covered completely in grocery bags full of food. All with assortments of breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Dean stared Sam down for a few moments, before sighing, shaking his head while dropping it down. He just sat. Here a few minutes, more than likely trying to get his thoughts together. When he seemed to have done just that, he looked back up at his brother. He raised as eyebrow.

" Your serious about this, aren't you?" he asked. Seriously not believing how bad his brother's overprotectiveness got sometimes. This was even worse than that one time when he was twelve. He had been in gym, and some kid was stupid enough to throw a weight in the air. It had landed right on his head. When he came to, he was in the nurse's office lying on a couch with a bandage over his head and an icepack over that. When suddenly Sam had burst through the room, eyes frantically searching until they caught and locked on to his slightly drowsy ones. In three long strides Sam was already kneeling in front if him, checking his injury over himself. The nurse had told him that he was going to be just fine, just a mild head concussion, but he seemed to have ignored her, only to continue checking him over. The school's nurse had also said that he would finish the school day just fine, but that just made her get a look from the eldest brother. Part angry, part relieved, but mostly incredulous. As if she was crazy to think he was going to finish the school day. Sam made that point by telling her so. After he had done that, he had signed Dean out himself, and practically carried him to the car. Even when they got to the motel they had stayed at, Sam didn't leave his side once. Not even to go to the bathroom, not really, anyway. He would stand outside the door and knock on it every thirteen seconds, (Dean had counted).

When he saw his brother nod his head, he sighed again, and simply, not wanting an argument, trudged his way to the bathroom, and stepped on the scale. As soon as he saw it stop on his weight, he knew for a fact he was screwed. There was nothing he could use to weigh it down more, and when he tapped on it, it sadly didn't change. Meaning it wasn't broken. He heard Sam coming and knew that he was soon going to be practically force-fed by him, as soon as Sam saw his weight.

Sam got to the bathroom to see his brother just staring at the scale he was standing on, that look on his face. The one that clearly said, _I'm screwed, and there's nothing in here to help me prevent from being screwed. _When Sam himself looked at the measurement of his brother's weight, he paled and sweat dropped. _Jesus fucking Christ, how the hell is he only 99 fucking pounds?!_


	8. Chapter 8

**_I'm Back! lol like I ever leave. I own nothing. okay I got a review giving me a brilliant idea, you know who you are, and I appreciate it. _**

**_FYI- OK this is my first ever time attempting a first character pov. and its gonna be dean's. I hope its not too bad._**

DEAN'S POV

I stand there on the damned scale that is going to sign my death certificate. I heard Sam walk up behind me and stand there, most likely just staring at the damn number. 99 was now my least favorite number. It had been at least five minutes since I know Sam had seen the number, and it was too quiet. Just far too quiet for me to think it was okay. I know Sam, almost nothing beats his overprotectiveness. Almost, nothing. The only thing I know that does was his...

_Oh shit._

As soon as I realize the one thing that overpowers his mother-Henning I turn around to look at him. _It's too late, _I thought, _he's already too pissed off, nothing will calm him down now. _Well, maybe it won't be so bad. There's no time like the present.

" Sam, look man, its not even-" I was cut off by the look on his face. I had never seen that one before. It was a mixture of worry, anger, and what actually looked like, confusion. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but nothing came out.

_' Holy shit,' _Sam thought, _'he' s only 99 fucking pounds, 99..99...0?'_ I don't even have to look at Sam to know he just looked up at confusion as to why the scale just turned to zero. I walked out of the bathroom, grabbed my jacket, and went to walk out the door. I just cant deal with this right now. I cant tell him the truth, and I can't lie to him. So I'll walk it off..when a huge-assed hand latched on to my uninjured shoulder, stopping my motion to open the door. I sighed, when I thought I couldn't deal with this right now, I meant it. The truth would set Sam off into an uncontrollable rage that I had only seen one other time, and I didn't want to relive that. But me lying to him wouldn't do any good, I could never lie to him, he always saw right through me. I wanted to tell him, but I couldn't, he said not to. That and, no matter how much I don't want to even think this, but, why would even Sam even care?

" Don't you dare..." I was thrown out of my musings by his talking. He sounded so...off. He didn't sound like Sam at all. I had never heard my brother sound so, I don't even know. He started up again.

" D-don't you dare, say its not even that bad, your too thin, and you have scars marring your body like crazy, and I know you sure as hell didn't get that burn by your own hand, or something you were hunting," I paled slightly. _'Shit, he knows someone did it, not something. What am I supposed to say?' _He speaks up again. Man, Sam is on a roll, I'll give him that.

" Something hurt you, starved you too, I bet." Damn, his guesses were right, the scars (most of them, anyway), the burns,... the _starving_. I can't help but to wince at, well, all of them. It needed to be done though, more bad things would've happened if I didn't let it happen. A lot more terrible than anything that had happened, is still happening, to me. Like I said though, I couldn't tell, he probably wouldn't understand, and I was going to explode soon. I couldn't take it. I didn't even know Sam was still talking until I heard the last few lines.

" You need to tell me what's been going on," I couldn't help it, I snapped. The worry and guilt quickly turned to anger, agony, and sadness. I whirled around quick, causing his arm to be slapped away and for him to back up a few feet. I could feel the anger, but on the deep inside, I was terrified. I had never had a fight with Sam like this. Or not at all, rather. I didn't know how his was going to end.

" What would be the point?!" I snapped. I could see the confusion on his face, that just turned to confused anger. _Just like dad, _I thought.

" What's the point? What's the point?! Point is, I could help you!" I didn't understand, he sounded sincere, but I knew that was just an act, I mean, it was. Wasn't it?


	9. Chapter 9

_**Ok I hope reading in the view of Dean was at least fairly decent. I know some of you might have questions, don't worry, they will be answered. I will now attempt Sam. I hope this doesn't end in disaster.**_

SAM POV

I looked at him in shock. This wasn't going as well as I would've hoped. I mean, I knew it wouldn't be a walk in the park, but still. His eyes always were the doors to knowing his emotions, and I have always been able to name them pretty well. His eyes at the moment showed so many different emotions, it was hard to tell which were which and which ones were really there. I have never seen him like this before. And before I knew it, he was yelling at me.

" Why do you care so much? I don't think it's that big of a deal!" I couldn't help it, those words were really getting on my last damn nerve. Because they weren't true.

" STOP saying that! It-"

" WHY?! Its true, I don't care-"

"Well I DO!" those three words were what began to calm him down, I could see it. He shut his mouth, which was open for him to argue again, he stiffened slightly, and his eyes now only showed one emotion. Confusion. He opened his mouth, but quickly shut it again. He started shaking, and I knew his breaking point would be soon. I knew he realized it too, because he tried to stop shaking, he bit his bottom lip so hard, I noticed blood. He was still trying in vain to stop shaking, so he kept his mouth shut to bite his lip. I spoke up again, quieter, softer, hoping it would break him. Terrible thought, I knew, but when he broke, he let it all out, including the truth. So if I broke him now, he would let it all out, even if he didn't want to. But that was what threw me off: he wanted to tell me, that I was for sure of, but it seemed that he felt like he couldn't.

" Listen, Dean, I do care. I don't know why you wouldn't, and I don't know why you think you can't tell me, but you can. " he didn't budge, not just yet. I was about to start speaking again, when surprisingly, he did.

" I can't tell you," he whispered, his voice broken, and hoarse from screaming.

" Yes, you can," I said, this wasn't right. HE could tell me anything, he knew that, right?

" No, you don't get it," his voice was breaking more and more with each word. He was shaking his head, as if it would help me understand. It didn't.

" Yes, I thi-"

" NO!," he screamed, and it actually caused me to jump. This was not what I was expecting.

" You really don't get it! I want to tell you, I do, honest. But. I. Can't." he emphasized the last three words.

" Why not?"

He simply shook his head, backed up slowly.

_Back towards the door. _

I ran as soon as he bolted, opening the door and trying to shut it behind him, trying to get as much space in between me and him as soon as possible. I caught up with him pretty quick, though, long legs and all. As soon as I touched him broke. Falling to his knees besides the car. Head shaking in his hands, as if trying to block me out. Like that would happen. I picked him up, and quickly brought him back to our room. Shutting the door, I turn back to him. He was up against the corner, knees puled up to his chest and head still in his hands, still shaking back and forth. I kneeled in front of him. I tried putting my hands on his shoulders, but he wouldn't stop jerking away from my touch, backing away more and more into the corner; a feat a I wouldn't have thought possible. He was mumbling under his breath, to himself or to me I couldn't tell. I leaned closer to try to attempt to hear him, but I could only make out so many words. The words I heard though, set me on edge. Half Pissed, and half Lethal.

" I can't tell... He said not to... terrible things...terrible things would happen...he said not to tell...I want to tell...but he...and I...can't" I just stared at him in shock. _Someone was threatening him? I don't fucking think so. _I mentally growled. He was still mumbling when I grabbed my phone. I really didn't want to do this. I really didn't want to call John. Not at all. I let out a bitter chuckle when I realized that this entire time, I have either called him John, or thought of him as John. No longer father, or dad.

Dean hadn't stopped shaking at all, but the mumbling had decreased slightly. I took that as a good sign, but not good enough for me to call..._him. _He might know if something had happened on the last hunt either they were on, or one Dean had gone on alone. I mentally cringed at that. The thought of Dean hunting alone, and ending up injured. I was torn from my thoughts when I heard the phone dialing the phone number. I put it on speaker, just in case. I couldn't believe what happened next.

' _This is John Winchester, I'm unavailable at the moment, but give my son-' _it was caught off by Dean literally tackling me to the floor, desperate to get the phone from my hand. He succeeded, quickly standing up and 'ending' the call. For good measure, he threw my phone at the wall.

I was about to go off him, one for ending the call that could possibly help him, and two because, well.. Dean just broke my damn phone! When I turned to chew him out, I stopped dead.

My little brother stood there, literally as pale as freshly fallen snow, making his eyes stand out. He was shaking even worse, and there were tears starting to break free from the surface.

" P-please S-Sammy, don't C-call him"

" Why Dean? I'm at the last straw, I don't know how to help you, and you wont even let me try when I do. Maybe he'll give me some answers," Dean's eyes widened even further after that. He took a few deep breaths, before nodding, (if it could even be called a nod), and sitting on the edge of my bed. He nodded me over, so I sat on the edge of his bed, facing him, waiting for him to start. He took a few more deep breath, before starting.

" You were right, with your theories, " he started, " I didn't get that burn by my own hand, but it technically was a hunting incident." he paused. The shaking had stopped almost all together, just with a little tremor here and there. The tears were still evident in his eyes, though.

" I know now that I am underweight, severely" he added, when he noticed my, as he would put it, 'Bitch Face'.

" And I know that you know that both of those scars- the severe ones- on my back and chest aren't from hunting either, same with the smaller burn marks and most of the little cuts and bruises on my back," he went on.

" What you don't know," he stated, " is that the reason I cant tell you, is you," I stared at him, _what the hell is he talking about? _He must've seen the transition look of confusion on my face, because he gave me a small smirk, the first thing close enough to a smile all day.

" Come on college boy, is it really that hard to figure out?" he said in a snarky tone. For once, I didn't call him out on it. I was too busy trying to figure out what he meant. Because of me, he didn't tell me, what the hell does that-

_Dear God, no_

I looked at him, and the way he looked at me confirmed what I just figured out. _Someone threatened me, so he wouldn't tell. That son of a bitch. _However, I had to hand it to said son of a bitch, because he sure found the way to get Dean to shut up and stay quiet. Dean would go to hell and back to make sure I was okay, despite me being the older sibling. Only two people other than us knew that weakness though; John and Bobby. Although, it was kind of obvious.

" How long has this been going on?" I had to know. He gave me a sad smile, and started to shake his head when I cut him of for what had to be the tenth time today.

" No Dean, listen to me," I spoke softly, so I wouldn't startle him, but firm, so he would listen to what I had to say and take it seriously.

" I don't care if people threaten me, I can take care of myself, alright?" he nodded, but it was unsure. I scooted all the way to the edge of the bed, and took his rather small looking hands in my larger ones, and just held on to them. He looked up at me.

" I promise, everything's going to be alright, its okay, you can tell me, okay? Just tell me," he nodded again, it was a little more sure than the first one was. I gave him a small smile, and tightened the hold I had on his hands.

" I just don't get it, you know? Why they did it in the first place," he whispered, and I don't know why, but his words gave me an unsettling feeling in my stomach.

" Who?" I whispered back. The tears started forming again, and when he looked up, just one fell as he said:

" Dad,"


	10. Chapter 10

**_Ok I think this POV thing is going good, right? like I said, first time trying it out. _**

**_I own nothing, and this is gonna be a long chapter, the longest one yet, promise._**

SAM'S POV

_" Dad," _

_Dad...dad...dad... _Dean's words echoed in my mind. I wanted to deny it so badly. Sure, he was never going to win Father Of The Year, and sure, he was a total stubborn-assed bastard 24/7, but I wouldn't ever have guessed that he would turn..._abusive._ That word turned sour in my stomach. I wanted to deny it so much, but, as horrible as it was, it all went in to perfect alignment, everything clicked.

_The way he said he couldn't tell me_

_The way he panicked and threw my phone when he found out I was going to call him_

_When Bobby said it wasn't his place to say._

_Wait...Bobby._

I looked at Dean, he was still staring at me, looking more terrified than I've ever seen him before. The shaking had stopped all together now, not a single tremor racked his body at all anymore. I couldn't help it, I needed to know. I needed to question him.

" Does Bobby know?" that was what I asked him first, because if he did, why wouldn't he take Dean away from him? Bobby was like a father to us, and even though he may seem like an emotionless bastard, he has a soft spot for us. Not like he'd ever admit it. Hell, if anything , he favored Dean. Don't get him wrong, he loved me too, but him and Dean always had a tighter bond. Most likely due to the fact they were both as stubborn as hell, had an unexplainable love for hunting, and they both loved cars with a passion.

" Yeah, he knows," well then, I had a few things to say to that. And I will be the first to admit, that they weren't all pleasant.

" Then why didn't he take you away? Why did he let you get abused like that? He could've taken you away from that rat bastard-"

" Sam, please, don't get mad at Bobby," he cut me off, "He tried to take me away, honest he did, even pulled a shotgun out on dad after he found out." I felt my anger at Bobby fade away, but I still had questions.

" Then why didn't he?" Dean looked at me for what seemed like an hour, not saying a word after I asked that. As if he was wondering if he should even tell me the truth.

" I went back with him, on my own choices," he finally said, and I couldn't help it, I saw red. Why the fuck would he do that?

" Dean, what the hell? Why the hell would you stay with that asshole?! He could've done worse to you! He could've killed you! He- oh god," I broke off my rant, the last sentence I had said having gotten to me. _Jesus, he could've killed him, he could've killed him and blame it on some creature, and I wouldn't have ever known the truth. Jesus, _as I thought those things, I didn't notice Dean move to sit next to me. I didn't realize until he bumped shoulders with me. I looked at him, tears in my eyes, to see he had tears in his eyes, too. He tried smiling, but it looked like it brought pain to him.

" Why?" I whispered, my voice breaking all the way.

" He threatened to go after you, too. He-" his voice cracked, and he broke off for a moment, and I just closed my eyes. This shouldn't have ever happened to him, let alone it went on, to protect me. It made my insides crawl. He spoke up again after a few seconds of trying to get his voice under control.

" He- he threatened to take away your life, and I couldn't have that, I would never have been able to live with it. I would've ruined your life, and I couldn't handle it," he let the tears fall, and I did too. He went on with the abuse, he didn't tell, he didn't complain, because he didn't want to ruin my life. That was possibly the most heartbreaking thing that's ever happened to me, and a lot has happened to me. This took the cake, though.

" How-" I choked on a sob, attempting to hide it so it wouldn't come out. He seemed to know what I was asking though, because he sniffed, and turned to look at the floor, while speaking,

" How long has it been going on?" despite breaking while he said, with tears and sobs now racking his body, he spoke strong, and firm. I still couldn't find my voice, so I just nodded, not knowing whether or not he could see me, with his head down like that. He must've, though, because he answered. And when he did, we both broke down, hard.

" Since the day you left, since- since the n-night h-he w-woke up. After you were g-one," I lost it, finally just breaking down and falling to the floor on my knees, just sobbing. _This wasn't right, _I thought, _not at all. This never should've happened, and I could've prevented it. I could've stayed.. or taken Dean with me. I could've done something, I could've prevented this...I..I.._

" Why didn't you ever call me?" it was kind of a stupid question, I knew, but, its not like John could've known about a phone call or a text message all the time.

" Would you have answered if I had called?" he said. There wasn't any venom in his voice, but to me, it was like being stabbed with a dagger made of nothing but pure raw guilt.

I had never called him. Not even once. Texted, either. And the more I thought about it, the guiltier I got.

_" Promise me you'll call, or text, or something." "I promise, I promise," _

I had promised him, I had promised that still slightly innocent fifteen-year-old boy that I would keep in touch, that I would check up on him. And what did I do? I broke possibly the simplest promise ever given to me to keep. I didn't call, didn't text, didn't write, once. Not even once did I ever call him. Not until a few weeks ago, when I tried John's number and Dean's number. So twice. I had only attempted to call twice. Twice in three and a half years. Twice, out of god knows how many days. When all it took was ten minutes more or less out of my day, and really what would ten or more minutes cost me? Not enough for me not to feel guilt. I was so lost in my guilt-ridden thoughts to notice that Dean had kneeled down beside me, tears streaming down his face, as well. I noticed, finally, when he spoke.

" P-please Sammy, don-don't be mad at me...p-please, don't be m-mad," I looked at him the best I could, with my vision blurred do to tears, and all, and saw his eyes.

Dean's eyes were pure raw fear. Terror, guilt, everything I can't stand to see in his eyes, were in his eyes. I couldn't take it, not anymore. I put my hand on his wrist, and pulled. He collapsed against me, sobs racking his too thin body and tears cascading down his too pale face. I held him tight, not knowing what to say and not trusting myself enough to even speak if I did. I just held him, on the dirty carpet of our motel room, hoping it was enough to comfort him until I could find my voice again. It took awhile, but I finally did.

" Dean, look at me," when he did, nothing had changed about his eyes. They still had that raw terror, that pure fear. It made my heart hurt. I put both hands on either side of his face, wiping the tears away the best I could. They kept coming down every time I wiped one away.

" I'm not mad at you, if anything, I'm proud of you," he eyes never left mine, but that pure fear went away when I told him that I wasn't mad at him, but was quickly replaced with confusion when I said I was proud. I went on before he could do anything though.

" I'm proud because you tried, and because you were brave, even if you shouldn't have done it, you were still so brave and strong-" my voice cracked again, but I kept going. "And I'm so proud of you for that," the confusion went away, and was fortunately not replace with anything, but when he shook his head, the raw terror was still there. If anything, it had grown.

" But... dad-" I cut him off, putting a hand over his mouth.

" Is a dead man the second I see him," I said, my fury and anger coming back in to play. He looked at me with wide eyes, and I couldn't help but to smirk.

" I'm serious," "Anyone does that to you, and they deserve to die, no matter who it is," he went to speak, and when he realized my hand was still over his mouth, he bit me. Hard.

" Ouch! Damn, that hurt," and it did, his teeth were like knives. He smiled, and I couldn't help but to smile back, it felt good to play around, even if the tension wasn't fully away yet. His smile stayed, but faded when he asked me a question.

" Can I ask you something?" he sounded hesitant, as if he was scared to ask me something.

" Anything," and I meant it, I would answer any of his questions, even if they were painful to answer.

" Why.. Why didn't you ever call?" his voice got quieter and quieter and by the time he stopped talking, it took me a while to figure out what he had said. I did, eventually, and I felt guilt ride through me again. Guilt and Anger, I realized. Angry at myself, of course.

" Because I'm a bastard," I said. Dean's eyes widened even more, with a horrified expression upon his face. He was horrified at the thought that I could even think that, I figured. I was right, because a few seconds after making said horrified expression, he started shaking his head.

" No, no Sam your not a bastard, I didn't mean it like that, I just meant-" I stopped him, this time by holding a hand up instead of placing one over his mouth. My hand still hurt from the bite. I put an arm on his shoulder and once again pulled, so he was now sitting in between my legs, his back up against my chest, head on my shoulder. He tensed, but quickly relaxed.

" I know what you mean," I whispered, "And I know what I said, and I meant it. I am a bastard for not calling you. I promised you the night I left that I would keep in touch, even by letters if I had to, and I broke that promise. This won't ever make up for that I know, but I am sorry. I wanted away from this life, but I didn't want away from you," he was still as a rock when I finished my apology, but that was for about five seconds before he turned around and launched himself at me. I couldn't help but to jump when his arms AND legs wrapped around my waist, his head buried into my chest. I hugged back after getting out of my shock, and that made him hug even tighter, if that was possible.

" Thank you Sam," I could just make out through his muffled sounds. I didn't know what he was thanking me about, but I still answered back.

" Your welcome, Dean," I ruffled his hair a little, making him attempt to snatch my hands away. I laughed at that. I turned serious, though, when I saw his face. He was staring at me with the same serious expression I was trying and probably failing to have. He was still sitting in between my legs, so he was already close to me when he started staring, and I was starting to squirm a little under his intense gaze. He turned, still within my side when he spoke.

" You want to know how it happened, don't you?" that threw me off for a second. Dean was the last person I expected to start talking about this, let alone so soon. But, here he was, asking me if I wanted to know how it happened. I nodded, and he copied that movement, before sitting up and against my side instead. He looked at me again.

" Which one first," he said with fake enthusiasm. It took me a minute to figure out what he was talking about, but then it hit me; which scar did I want to know about first. I looked at him, and thought about it. _I do really want to find out what happened with the burns, but then again, he said it technically WAS a hunting incident, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad. So better save that one for last. _I knew that that was my best shot of not going insane on anything I could get my hands on. If I listened to the worst ones first, I might not go all... Terminator. I finally just decided to go with the ones that looked like knife scars, and then the burn.

" The one on your back," I chose, and he nodded, before closing his eyes for a moment. I knew what he was doing, he was pulling up the memories he's tried so hard to push down. Remembering things he wanted to forget.

He reopened his eyes and looked in front of him, but down. That's how he looked when he started.

_1 year ago... (Outsider POV)_

_Dean sighed, walking into the motel room they were staying at. He had just gotten released from school, and with his father on a hunt, he had to walk home. He didn't mind, he liked being alone, in his thoughts. Today wasn't a good day. It was the anniversary of his mother's death, and his father had been taking every single hunt he could get his hands on, then he would drink the night away, but not without causing Dean some pain, too. It was always worse this time a year. It only got really bad during the end of October, and the whole month of November. Those months were the worst. The second worst had to have been August and September. The month before Sam left, and the first month of a new school year. _

_He had just gotten into the motel room, before being slammed into the wall farthest from the door. Dean looked shocked, he didn't think anyone was here. The figure in front of him surprised him even more. _

_His father wasn't supposed to be home yet. _

_But here he was, smelling of strong whiskey and cigarettes, just like every day, it seemed. But there was more fury in his eyes than Dean had ever seen before. Dean was suddenly on the floor, arms wrapped around his head as his father punched and kicked him repeatedly, throwing a few glass bottles at his head, too. It had been a good ten minutes of punching, kicking, and throwing before Dean was pulled up again and slammed once more into the wall. This time with a sharp grip on his neck. _

_" Do you know what day it is boy?" John Winchester asked, the grip he had on his youngest son's neck growing tighter and tighter with each word. With his windpipe cracking and his throat almost completely closed up. He did the best he could, and nodded. _

_" It's the anniversary of the most beautiful woman I had ever been with's death, and do you know why?" his father growled, and Dean could only nod again. He knew the routine, nod along, say sorry, then brace for impact. But the kick to his stomach left him back on the floor, gasping in surprise and pain. **It usually doesn't go like this, **Dean thought. He looked up when his father began talking again._

_" It's all. Your. Fault. You useless, piece, of SHIT!" he threw a surprise bottle down at Dean, and it hit him square in the back. He could feel the warm sticky blood drip down his back, but knew it wasn't too serious, probably just a cut. It wouldn't scare much. But those words were a completely different story. _

**_Was it really my fault? Is it really my fault my mom died? Did I really do that to her? Am I really useless? _**_He was so busy with his thoughts that he didn't see John go up behind him, didn't see the glinting of the silver knife in his hand._

_He felt it, though._

_He screamed, probably louder than he ever had. He screamed as he felt the knife dig deep into his back, but not pull out, but to slide down. He screamed and screamed, begging for his father to stop, but he didn't. Instead, his father just had a rather interesting thing to say. _

_" Your not my son, your a demon. You know how I can tell?" when all Dean did was scream when the knife went deeper, he continued. _

_" You look too much like Mary to be real, to be my son, so you must be a demon, sent to haunt me with her hair, her skin, her eyes," he hissed the last part, the part about Dean's eyes being Mary's. It was true, Dean looked like Mary, always did. Eyes, hair, skin, laugh, smile, love of pie, mullet rock, and the Impala. He was just like her, in every way, shape, and form. Despite being a man. And John had always hated him for it. He had always done it silently though, knowing he would get nowhere with his oldest around, protecting the demon from everything. He was sad to see his oldest leave, (even though he was unconscious) , but a part of him, (a huge part), was happy. Happy, because now he could torture the demon that was torturing him, that had been torturing him since the day his beloved wife burned over that...**Thing's **crib. Because no one was standing in the way. _

_John suddenly heard one final scream, before a slump against the floor had him turn to look at the monster. It was unconscious, bruises marring his face, some of them shiny with tear tracks upon them. Blood moving all around his shirt, on the floor, and all around it. _

_John finally pulled the blade out, slightly confused when the demon didn't disappear, or incinerate, or something. He couldn't do much more about it though, because he felt warmness start to numb his mind, and let the darkness take him._


	11. Quick little AN

**_ok, I need some advise here, I have a good idea for the next chapter, BUT..._**

**_I need some help on deciding who's POV it would be better in, and if I should just immediately start the chapter with the next flashback, or have a little reaction from Sam, idk, all I do know is that I don't want it in Dean's pov, because it wouldn't look too good in my eyes. Please someone get back to me ASAP. _**

**_Sincerely,_**

**_ USSA_**

**_ Aka, Unknown Stranger Sees All_**


	12. Chapter 12

_**ok, I decided to go with Sam pov in the first few parts, and then back to outsiders pov when the flashbacks start back up. Thank you to all of my reviewers and followers. **_

_**I own nothing. **_

_**I have a quick question though... should I keep jess alive in this one whole story...OR... finish it up where they find John and then make little stories centering around this one. Let me now what y'all think.**_

_**Oh and BTW... THIS IS NOT SLASH, BUT IF THATS WHAT YOU LIKE, THEN READ IT THAT WAY. **_

SAM'S POV

" That fucking Bastard!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. How dare he? How dare he say those things to him, let alone hurt him? He was a dead man the second I saw him, I don't care who he is or if I get arrested in the process but, he was going to die. Or my name isn't Samuel Winchester.

Dean was staring at me after my outburst. He had a neutral expression on his face, as if he was waiting for me to finish my little tantrum. _Well good, _I thought, _because I'm sure as hell not finished. _I had started pacing around the room, which was odd, because I didn't remember standing up.

" I'm going to kill him, I swear to god, I am so going to kill him. I'm gonna rip his fucki-" I was surprised to be cut off by Dean wrapping his arms around my waist, holding me in place. I realized now that I had been pacing still. I tried to shy away out of his grip, but he just held on tighter, making it kind of hard to breathe.

" Sammy," he whispered. " You need to calm down, or I'm never gonna be able to get through this," that's when it hit me; he didn't even care if I was going to scream the entire night, he just needed to get through all of the backstories without an interruption, or else he was going to break. And possibly shut me out, and I decidedly didn't want that. I tried calming down. It just wasn't going to happen anytime soon. So instead, I just focused on getting my anger bottled up inside of me until he was done with the explanations. Then I would let it out. In the meantime though, I wrapped my own arms around Dean, and simply said,

" I'm sorry, I'm just-" I hugged him a little tighter, my mind making me see things I really didn't want to see. Making me see all of the worst case scenarios as to what could have happened that night. _Jesus, and I still have two more to listen in on, _my mind reminded me cruelly. I was so going to kill him.

" I know, your doing your job," I looked down at my little brother, confused. Job? I mean yeah it was always my job to watch out for Dean, but I still didn't get what he was getting at.

" And what is this job you speak of?" I tried to make it sound like I knew exactly what he was talking about, but by the way he started laughing, I could tell that I probably failed the tone of it. He answered anyway.

" Being a great older brother," he said it so matter-of-factly that I hugged him tighter. He was right though, that was my job. I just couldn't believe that he still thought that I could do a great job of it, after ditching it for three point five years. I kissed the side of his hairline softly.

" Thanks De," I said, using that old nickname of his that he said he hated, but I knew he secretly loved. I could practically hear him rolling his eyes at what I said, but I saw him smile, too.

" Your welcome, Sammy," and I rolled my eyes, too. He used the old nickname I said I hated, but secretly loved. I knew he knew it too.

We just kind of stayed like that for a few minutes, both of us seemingly wanting to forget what we just had to do. Me, listen to a story that broke my heart. Him, retell the story that scared him, literally. It had been a few minutes before I realized that he was sinking down, out of my arms. _He had fallen asleep,_ I thought fondly as I stood him back up the best I could, and then half carried him, half dragged him, to bed. After settling him in, I settled into my own, and thought about everything I had just learned in the last twenty four hours.

_My brother had been abused by our father since the day I left for college. He kept it a secret from everyone, including Bobby and me, because John had threatened him with my 'apple pie' life of being ruined, and he wouldn't have ever forgiven himself for that. He had obviously abused, both physically AND mentally. He was starved, almost to the point of highly severe anorexia. Not only that, but he had around three emotional breakdowns, had been terrified of me for around a minute, though it still hurt, and then had some creepy pedophile sizing him up suggestively. _

_All in all, a terrific first day, _I thought sarcastically, and closed my eyes for a split second before opening them again. That last thought I had about that gothic asshole made me reopen my eyes and start worrying and thinking into hyper drive. Jesus, don't let thud be true, I mean, it couldn't be true, could it?

John wouldn't have ever... _raped_ Dean, would he? I didn't get my 'it isn't really true' hopes up. Up until today, I hadn't even thought of him. As physically or verbally abusive. So what's the proof of him never being..._sexually abusive? _It made my stomach crawl. I couldn't think about that right now, I couldn't. I thought about it, and turned my head to look over at my sleeping little brother. What I saw, made my heart stop for what had to have been the hundredth time today. Right now, though, had to of been the worst.

Dean was thrashing around on the bed, tossing and turning every way possible, sending the occasional punch or kick into the air, obviously fighting demons that were invisible out here, but 100% real in his mind. I hadn't even realized that this was going on for... how long was it going on? I quickly glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. My eyes widened.

3:30 A.M

I had been inside of my own thoughts, for two and a half hours.

God knew how much of that time Dean had spent fighting his own subconscious. I felt terrible, I didn't know if he would want me to help, but I desperately wanted to. I didn't know how well that would go down, after all of the caring and sharing he had just put out. My brother never was a caring and sharing type of guy. Not even when he was a little kid. I mean, sure, he had his days where the emotional breakdown happened, but he was never one to even accept what happened. He always acted like it never happened, so I could never bring it back up. I finally decided my choice though, when my little brother screamed at the top of his lungs:

"STOP IT... NO DAD PLEASE! STOP!" with that I as out of my bed and sitting on the edge of his, trying to wake him up. I shook his shoulders gently at first, but then when he screamed those six words again, this time with more panic, I shook him even harder.

" Dean, come on kiddo you got to wake up, you're having a nightmare, De, come on wake up," he wouldn't wake up though, so I tried again.

" Kiddo c'mon wake up, WAKE UP!" I really didn't want to scream, but right before I did he started to cry and that worried me enough to scream to wake him. He was crying. In. His. Sleep. That was pretty fucking scary thing to watch.

He finally jolted awake, gasping in breath after breath and his wide, terrified eyes roaming around the room, as if looking for something, or _someone, _That wasn't there.

" Dean," I aid softly, hoping not to scare him. He quickly turned to look at me, squinting his eyes into the darkness to try to see where my voice was coming from. I quickly leaned forward, turning on the lamp before focusing my eyes back on my little brother.

Dean was staring at me in shock, as if he hadn't just spent the last 24 hours together. He had stopped gasping like a fish out of water, but the occasional deep breath could be heard. Before I knew it, his hand was on the side of my face, as if seeing to make sure I was real.

" Sam?" I nodded, and he released a shaky breath before launching himself at me for the second time that day. He wasn't crying, or at least, not yet anyway, but he was shaking awfully bad. I felt my heart breaking when he tightened his hold in me, and said,

" You're real, right? So you wouldn't..." he paused, eyes filling with tears as he whispered the few final words.

" Ever strangle me, would you?" I swear my heart broke then and there, and I did the only thing I've been able to do this entire trip it seemed. I pulled him against me and held him tight. I didn't want to let him go, not for a long time. I just wanted to hold him, and tell him that everything was going to be okay, Bu it wasn't like that. He wasn't okay, I wasn't okay, and the world we live in just seemed like a total fucking ass right now.

" No, kiddo, I would never hurt you, I promise, I love you too much to do that," I sniffed and held him tighter, meaning every word I had just said.

We stayed like that for at least an hour, and when it seemed like he had fallen asleep, I stood up, ready to go back to my own bed. I honestly didn't want to leave him, despite the measly three foot separation. It still felt too far away. I still got up though, and had just step away when a hand reached out and grabbed mine. I looked down at my little brother, his eyes weren't glazed over anymore, meaning he was back to the eighteen year old stubborn ass who I had put to bed.

" Stay," I didn't need much more convincing, I simply sat back down on the edge of his bed, and waited to see what he decided to do. He rolled over, so his face was buried in my chest and he was practically in my lap. He looked so small, fragile, it made my eyes water. He was drifting off again, I could tell. I knew I had to make a plan. He could finish the stories at Bobby's, meet Jess, maybe come live with me, us. I didn't know how he would respond to it, but I had to try, just not now. I thought he had fallen asleep, so I simply shut my eyes, too. I felt sleepiness come to me and I only remembered one more thing before I went under.

" I love you, too,"


	13. Chapter 13

_**Alright, hope that last chapter wasn't too sappy... **_

_**I once again own nothing, and this isn't slash, but if that's what you prefer go ahead and read it that way. its your life. **_

_**This will start out in outsiders POV and then move on to Sam's POV. **_

_**Oh and to the reviewer who suggested Bobby (you know who you are), don't worry, he will either make an appearance in the ending of this chapter and then the entire next, or just the entire next. Depends on where this leads me. **_

_**I might be out for two days at the most, I'm going out to celebrate my 13th birthday.**_

_**Ha, bet you guys didn't think I was that young, huh? **_

OUTSIDER POV

When Sam woke up the first thing he did was looking to his side to see his little brother. A small smile formed at the base of his lips. The last thing he had heard was his brother telling him that he loved him, an that had both warmed Sam's heart to no end, but had also eased away his worries of Dean hating his guts. As carefully as he could, he sat up on the bed , and slowly started to stand up. He saw Dean shift from where he had lay previously, but didn't wake up. He simply turned his head more into the pillow and sighed. Sam's smile widened at that. It seemed that that was the best sleep he had gotten in a long time. Excluding the fact that he had to wake him up from a nightmare.

He quickly showered, then got dressed in a casual t-shirt and jeans, before making a note for Dean and walking out to get some food. He remembered how, even though he was too thin, Dean still hate, but not as much as he should. Sam had also noticed that, when Dean had seen all of the food he had gotten that first morning, he had turned a slight shade of green, to match his eyes. So when Sam found himself in the diner, he simply ordered two coffees, and some bagels. He wasn't that hungry anyway, but hoped that Dean would take for something.

All in all, Sam was in a decently normal mood. When he wasn't far from the motel room, he got a phone call.

" Hello?" Sam spoke, not even bothering to check the caller ID.

" Sam?" that was weird, it sounded like Bobby.

" Bobby?" he could hear him mutter 'idgit'. He couldn't help but to smile at that, it was good to hear from Bobby.

" Yeah, listen, I know I told you that it wasn't at my right to say, but I'm too damn worried to let it slide," _Uh oh, that doesn't sound too good, _Sam thought as he said an alright to Bobby.

" Sam, listen, your daddy's been beating up your little brother for a while now, and I won't lie to you, I've known about that," he paused, and Sam's stomach kept getting lower and lower...

" I think John might've touched Dean..._sexually,_"

His stomach dropped.

_**Haha I know what you all are thinking,**_

_**" USSA you sick bastard get out here so I can kick your now teenagerized ass. Well don't worry I will answer those questions now.**_

_**1. yes, teenagerized is a word I just created to signify the fact that I am now a teenager.**_

_**2. Yes I really did just turn 13**_

_**3. I truly am sorry for the shortness of this chapter, but don't worry, the next chapter will be longer, devil's honor.**_

_**4. I need you guys, followers or non, to vote on this, should it be where he actually did get raped, or no? because I have had my friends at school both say, **_

_**" Claire, you can't have him get raped, that's cruel!" my response being... " NO shit Sherlock,"**_

_**and then some were like, " make him pregnant!" and I was like... " Fuck no, you sick bastard," **_

_**so I need you guys to help decide, in your guys' opinion, would that make the story more interesting, or would it make the story drag on? **_

_**I must know, so please help me If you can!**_


	14. Chapter 14

Okay..._** thanks to you guys I know how this is going to work. thanks again. **_

_**I own nothing, this isn't slash, and thank you Jkf340 for wishing me a happy birthday. I Appreciate it. And don't worry I wont make him pregnant, that's just sick. **_

_**THIS IS SAM'S POV**_

SAM'S POV

I felt my stomach drop. Please let this just be some sick joke. Sure, John was physically and verbally abusive, but eventually we would get through it, Dean and I. But this, was far beyond too far. This was what pushed me to the breaking point. And I don't mean the breaking down crying and sobbing breaking down. No, I meant the literally finding that sick fuck right the fuck now and torture him until he begs for mercy. And even then, I still wouldn't give him his precious mercy.

" Sam, you still there? Look I know this is a lot to take in, but we need to find your brother, and when you do, bring him over here ASAP. I think we all need to have a little 'chat'," and with that, Bobby hung up, leaving me frozen in place. Until I heard a car honking right next to me.

" C'mon Sam, get your ass in the car, let's go!" it was Dean, of course it was. I couldn't help but to cast him a concerned glance before I got into the car. He said we were leaving, and I didn't check us out. Meaning that he must have done it for us, meaning that he had to have met that gothic asshole at the counter. He must have noticed me staring, because he stared back once we were at a red light.

" What ya staring at me for, it's kind of creepy," he spoke first, causing me to actually full on realize I was staring, and I spoke the first thing that came to my mind.

" Where are we going?" kind of off of the topic he had chosen, but I was genuinely curious, he hadn't said and I hadn't asked, until now, that is.

" Well, I thought we were headed back to California to drop you off," he stated. Well I wasn't expecting that for an answer.

" What? Why would we do that?" he gave me a quick glance, the one that clearly said, ' I think you might have finally lost it, Sammy' but he answered anyway.

" Well, considering it's already close to noon, and a drive from Michigan to California isn't just a hop, skip, and jump away, I figured we should start our way back," I would've slapped myself. It was already Sunday afternoon! Meaning I had to go back to college. Well, shit. I loved college, I really did, but Dean was more important. No contest.

" Well then, turn around," luckily we were the alone on the dirt road, because suddenly he slammed on the brakes. Hard. I jolted forward, but he didn't move an inch. When I regained my composure, I looked over to see him staring at me.

" What?" he asked, he had a look pure confusion on his face. I had to choose my words my words carefully. I was already on thin ice with him, I could be doing good one second, but saying the wrong thing the next, it had always been like that.

" Well, I got a call from Bobby, he wants to see you, and me, and he wants to talk with us," I started, not really sure what else to say. He had spilled most of his heart out in only a measly 48 hours or so, and even then, it was more than he ever had in fifteen years. And I of course wanted to ask him about...rape, but I knew he wouldn't tell that to me, at least not while driving. He sighed, but he hadn't put his foot on the gas yet. He looked at his hands for a while, and then just leaned his head back and shut his eyes. I couldn't help but wonder about what he was thinking. I suddenly remembered that he used to that all the time, when we were kids. When he was trying to figure something out for himself, more importantly, _when people wouldn't give him an exact answer. _I quickly turned to look at him, and I wasn't surprised to him snap open his eyes a turn his head to look at me so fast I was surprised he didn't snap it. He stared at me, wide eyes of shock suddenly turning to eyes of understanding.

" You want to know if I was raped," he didn't speak it as a question, it was a statement, and the only thing I could think of was how brave and smart he really was. Brave, because I couldn't even think of that word and my brother in the same sentence in my MIND without shivering. Smart, because he could figure that out in less than ten minutes, and all he did was over everything I had just told him. He was smarter than anyone gave him credit for, myself included. He was still staring at me, he spoke again.

" That's what Bobby called you about, isn't it?" I could still only stare at him. How does he do that? Apparently, I waited too long to answer, because he started talking again, sounding older, like it was painful to talk, and I couldn't blame him. It still worried me though.

" Twice," was all he said, and then kept driving, rather fast I'll add. It took my mind a minute to understand what he meant. _Twice__,_ what_ the hell does that even..._

_Oh God, no. This couldn't be happening. It isn't real, it can't be..._

I shut my eyes tight, hoping this was all just a dream. It had to be. John was just a sick abusive bastard, but only physically and mentally, not the third one, never the third one. Never the...

" Oh God," I whispered, I opened my eyes again. It wasn't a dream. It was life, only it was a nightmare. A living, breathing nightmare.

" Sammy, can we not do this now? We can head to Bobby's, if that's what you really want to do, if you still want to do that, we'll talk there," he sounded calm, way too calm for all the crazy shit that had gone on. How the hell was he so calm about this?! So many questions rained down on my mind, making me almost blurt many of them out. _Was it really only two times? When did it happen the first time? The second? Will you let me kill him now? _I thought that last one with real pleasure. I couldn't wait to see my 'father' again, because when I do, I'm gonna be ready.

Because when I do, I'm gonna kill him.

_**LOL Harry Potter reference in the end! Kudos to whoever knows it!**_

SAM'S POV

We had driven for three hours, on our way to Bobby's, before we stopped at a gas station, while Dean had gotten gas, I had called Jess, telling her that the trip would be extended. I didn't even think to call Bobby, it had, in all honesty, slipped my mind. Nonetheless, we were back on the road, towards Bobby Singer's house. I offered to drive, but Dean had refused, stating simply,

" Nope, can't let you wreck her," I hadn't stopped laughing until we were a full five minutes on the road. We were on the road for about an hour, then I had started falling asleep, when suddenly there was a shouted curse, a loud horn, and then the sound of breaks being slammed upon. Then, nothing but darkness.

SPNWINCHESTERSPNWINCHESTERSPNWINCHESTERSPNWINCHESTERWPNWINCHESTERSPNWINCHESTERSPNWINCHESTERSPNWINCHESTERSPNWINCHESTERSPN

SAM'S POV

I woke up, (weird, I don't remember falling asleep), with a huge crook in my neck. I quickly got rid of it by cracking my neck, then proceeded to look around me. I quickly started to check myself out. No pain anywhere, except for still in my neck slightly, but that was most likely whiplash. There was a slight jolt in my back, but when I turned to look behind me, I knew why. There was a medium-sized shard of glass, between me and the back of my seat. It wasn't in me, thank god, but it still prodded my back until I had taken it out. What the hell had happened? All I remembered was a scream...

_" Shit!" _

_" HONK" _

_SCREECH _

_darkness..._

Dean. I quickly looked to my left, and to my surprise and slight horror, Dean wasn't there. I quickly looked around again, searching for anything I had missed, when I saw the windshield. There weren't many cracks in it, but one stood out from all the others. It was rather large, in the left center of the glass, and was just a huge circle, with few smaller cracks around it. I was about to overlook it, when I noticed something glistening around the hole. Something red.

_Something that looked a lot like blood._

I quickly un-strapped, opened my door, and stood, looking wildly for my brother, and not seeing him. Anywhere. I started to run to his side of the car, tripped on something hard, and ended up landing on my ass rather clumsily.

" Ow, dammit Sam, lose a few," I froze, and looked behind me. There was Dean, laying on the road, in front of the car, surrounded by glass. He had a small trickle of blood running down the side of his face, and a rather deep looking cut on his lip, but other than that, he looked decent. Nothing was bent the other way, or looked broken. Either way, I bent down next to him, and then proceeded to help him stand. He stood, and to my surprise, didn't wobble down once. I still didn't let go of his arms, though. I still needed to make sure he was alive, and breathing, and at least 90% okay. By the looks of it, I'd say he was, but I still didn't let go.

" Are you okay?" I asked, I started wiping away the blood from the side of his face, which had started to drip into his eye, when he hissed at the touch and jerked out of it.

" Yeah, I'll be okay, just cuts and bruises, with one hell of a headache. What about you? You make it out alright?" I nodded, looking him over again, when he touched my shoulder, I looked back up at him.

" C'mon, we're almost there," I nodded, and started steering him towards the passenger side, not caring about the glass, or whatever the fuck just happened, I just wanted to get to Bobby's and sort this whole mess out. I started the car, praying that the Impala would work. It roared to life and as quick and she started up, we were gone. No proof we were ever there except for the glass in the road.

" Hey, what did I tell you before we started heading to Bobby's?" Dean had asked five minutes in. He didn't look panicked, or afraid, just curious. As if he wanted to make sure I remembered, which I did, but I didn't want to.

" Twice," I said simply, my stomach going cold at the one word. I glanced over at him. He was looking at me, as if I was supposed to say something else. I shrugged at him, and when he looked at my eyes with his 'all seeing eyes', as I liked to call him, his own widened.

" That's it, nothing else?" he sounded calm, but his eyes said guilty. I didn't have the slightest fucking clue ass to why though, so I just nodded. He groaned, and hit his head on the back of the seat, he sounded angry with himself.

" Jesus, Sam, I'm so sorry," I looked at him for as long as I could, with me driving and all. He started up before I could say anything.

" I just thought, and you... I just didn't mean it like that... it came out wrong, all wrong," the slightest bit of hope formed in my chest with his words, but I kept it low, our luck was never really luck. Like this would be any different. Still, I had to try.

" What are you talking about Dean?"

" ..." he was quiet, so I pushed him for it, I had to know.

" Dean, did John rape you?" he winced at that, and I fumed. He did. I was going to kill that...

"No, he tried, twice, but he didn't actually.." he stopped talking, but for once I didn't care. I was too fucking relieved. But that relief only lasted for about five seconds, before I went back to my silent rages. He didn't rape him, thank god, but he still tried. He tried to do it, twice. Fucking twice!

" Sam I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it sound like that, I thought I told you. I'm so sorry," if puppies that had been kicked too often could talk, that was what Dean sounded like.

" Don't be sorry, ok? It's alright, I'm not mad,"

" You should be,"

" No, I shouldn't. Unless you're talking about John, in that case yes, I am beyond pissed off," he didn't look convinced, but he stopped looking like a kicked puppy so I let it go.

" Does this mean we still have to go to Bobby's for that little 'talk'?" he asked. I couldn't keep the smile off my face.

" Yep," I said casually, throwing a grin in my little brother's direction, causing the glare he was sending me turn in to a small grin as well

We kept driving on in silence, and in a half an hour, we had pulled into the Singer's residence.

" Shit," I said, running a hand through my hair as I turned off the ignition. Dean glanced at me.

" What?"

" I forgot to tell Bobby we were coming today," Dean started grinning like a mad man, causing me to stare at him.

" Well, if he's going to kick anyone's ass tonight, it's going to be yours," and just like that, he opened his car door, and silently shut it, heading towards the door. I quickly followed him.

" Why would he kick my ass? You're the one he's been trying to get a hold of for the last month or so," I winced as soon as they left my mouth. That might been a little harsh. Dean didn't seem to notice though, he just grinned that grin again. The grin of the Cheshire Cat.

" Because he called you today, and you didn't call him to give him a fair warning of our pain in the asses coming over, and then imagine the surprise when he comes to the door, to see one of us standing crookedly and the other with blood on the side of their face, still running, I might add."

I paled slightly, and he just laughed. Well shit, he probably would kick my ass. We made it to the front door, where Dean knocked. We heard a muttered curse, and we sent glances at each other, grinning. Ah, Bobby.

The door opened, and we looked back towards the door. There, stood Bobby Singer, staring at both of us in obvious surprise. He looked at me, I grinned at him.

" Surprise?" he rolled his eyes, and muttered 'idgit', and I heard Dean snort with laughter. That's when Bobby turned to look at him, as if noticing him for the first time.

He looked Dean over from head to toe, then glanced back at to the side of his head, obviously noticing the blood. His eyes turned cold and dangerous. Before he could speak, Dean answered the clear question for him.

" Car accident," he said simply. Bobby looked at me again and then back to my brother. He opened his mouth to speak, but Dean had the answer for that too.

" Asshole obviously drunk at the wheel, braked when we were both doing at least 65, maybe 70. I rear-ended him, flew out through the windshield, and princess over there took a little beauty nap," he said pointing at me. I glared at him, but it had no heart in it.

" He was gone before I could face his ass," Dean finished, right before being pulled in for a hug.

" Idgits, both of 'ya" I heard Dean laugh, and I couldn't help but to smile too. He then pushed Dean away, and pulled me in.

" Long time no see," he said, I chuckled at that.

I had missed Bobby


	15. Chapter 15

_Sorry** for the long delay. **_

_**I own nothing**_

_**this isn't slash**_

_**Love the Winchesters or I will harm you. ;)**_

SAM'S POV

After Bobby released me from his grasp, he leaned left slightly, looking at the car. He sucked in a breath.

" God Damn, what the hell happened to the 'shield?" he asked, he turned to look at me, but I was looking at Dean. I gasped slightly. Bobby got the message and turned to look at Dean, who was much paler than he had been a few moments ago.

" Dean? What happened to the 'shield?" he asked again, I guessed he already had a slight idea, but wanted to know for certain. Dean turned slightly faded green eyes to look at him. Shit, he's concussed.

" Slammed into other car... went through it..." he mumbled. Right before he took a header. Bobby muttered a curse as I ran towards my little brother, and I quickly caught him by the waist. It was getting harder to keep him upright, so I settled on picking him up, bridal-style.

" C'mon, lets get him on the couch," Bobby said, ushering me in. I nodded, and walked in, the older man on my heels. I walked to the living room, setting Dean on the couch as carefully as I could. I heard Bobby walk up behind me, and when I turned around he was holding out some bandages. I quietly thanked him, then started wrapping up Dean's head the best I could. He was right, when he was talking while we were walking up to the door. His head was still gushing blood. When I finished, Bobby placed a hand on my shoulder, gesturing to the kitchen. I followed him, and when he had both sat down, he started the conversation.

" How much do you know?"

" Enough to know that when I find John, he a dead man," I said, and I saw Bobby nod, no disapproval showing in his features.

" That's good, but I mean what do you know about... you know," he looked uncomfortable, and I immediately knew why. I shrugged.

" I'm being honest here Bobby, it's so confusing that I don't know what damn thing to believe," he nodded again, still looking slightly uncomfortable, but he had relaxed some. He shook his head after a few moments of silence.

" Fuck!" he practically screamed. I jumped slightly when he took a glass a threw it at the wall, and I could only watch as it shattered into a few hundred pieces. He sat back down and out his head in his hands. I still only stared, I had never seen him so emotional before. It scared me.

" He doesn't deserve this, Sam. Never did, he's a great kid." I nodded, not even sure if he could see me. I knew what he said was true. Dean was a great kid. And he never would deserve this, no matter what he does, he never would've deserved this. Never in a million years.

" John came over here, few months ago, and Dean looked like a had been run over by a train," I swallowed. Jesus, I couldn't even begin to imagine what Dean would look like then. We could come over here after a hunt, and one of us could have an ear cut off. Bobby would say 'just a scratch'. I couldn't believe what he would start to look like if BOBBY said he looked like a got hit by a fucking train. He kept going.

" I asked him what happened, and he said it was a hunting accident. a fucking hunting accident, Sam," I knew that was when Bobby found out. We both knew that Dean was a great hunter. Hell, one of the best, even at fifteen.

" I knew that was a lie the second he second he said it, so I confronted John, when I asked him, he immediately went to your brother," I stiffened. This didn't sound good, something bad was going to happen.

" He just went right up to him, and slapped him a good one, right across the face, he was drunk, but I knew it hadn't been the first time, drunk or not. Considering Dean didn't even flinch. He just stood there, and took it," I couldn't breathe. Partly because of the rage growing inside of me and partly because of what I was hearing.

" I mean, Jesus Sam, he just took it, didn't blink, didn't flinch, nothing... just took it.." he broke off, and I was stared. He look like he was about to break down into tears, and that scared me something awful. I had never seen him like this, had never expected to, either.

" John started screaming at him, telling him how stupid he was for getting his cover blown. Even punched him in the eye afterwards. An' the next thing I know, Dean's on the ground, ready to take another blow, John's ready to make another blow, and I've got a gun pointed right at his head," for the first time since the story started, I wished I had been there. If I was there I would've pulled the trigger.

" Before I could even threaten him again, he was out the door. I tried to convince him to stay, honest I did, but Dean just gave me that damned smile, shook his head, and was off, hadn't heard from either one since, until now," he finished, and I was full of guilt. If I had stayed, he never would've done this, never. I was sure of it.

" It's all my fault," Bobby snapped up his head to look at me.

" No, Sam, don't start that, it's not your fault," I shook my head. It was.

" It wasn't your fault Sammy," I snapped my head up to see Dean, standing in the doorway, and even though he had a concussion, he still stood tall. He continued before I could begin.

" He always hated me, from the second Mom burned on the ceiling of my bedroom, and don't deny it, he's told me enough times to know, that it was true."

I shook my head, unwilling to believe that it wasn't my fault. Next thing I'm aware of, Dean is sitting right next to me, hands on my shoulders. He has this intense gaze to his eyes, determination.

" Stop doing that, because it wasn't your fault!" I snapped.

" Yes it was! Why don't you just admit it? It was all my fault! If I hadn't of left, he never would've gotten you, I could've stayed, or I could've took-" I was cut off, when I was slapped. I looked at Dean, and I had never seen so much anger in his eyes before. I couldn't tell what he was angry at, but I hope it was aimed at me.

" Stop. Saying. That. It Was NOT. Your. Fault," I tried to shake my head again, he raised a fist.

" You shake your head one more time, I WILL punch you in the face," he smiled, but he wasn't joking. I sighed, nodding this time, enough to make him mutter 'smartass'. I smiled at that. He slapped my arm.

" See that's it! Smile, dance, get totally drunk, do something besides sit there with the guilt you shouldn't have," I looked at him with a concerned gaze, I looked and saw that Bobby was staring at my brother like he had completely lost it. Dean looked at me with questioning eyes, and then turned to Bobby.

" What?" I started laughing, and I could hear Bobby ask Dean if he was high or something, and that only made me laugh harder.

" What's so funny?" Dean asked again, and when I finally got my laughter under control, I answered him.

" Nothing, but really, get drunk?" I asked, still smiling. He shrugged, a smug grin forming on his face.

" What?" he shrugged, but he answered anyway.

" I just remembered this one time, before all of this crazy shit happened, Dad took me to a bar," I stopped smiling and looked at him.

" How long ago was this?"

" I was fifteen," I was mentally cursing out the dead body of my father. He took my minor of a little brother to a bar. Hell, he still wasn't old enough to go to a bar!

" Anyway," he continued, either oblivious to my anger or just ignoring it. I was pretty sure it was the later of the two.

" We went in, sat at the counter, and we each got a beer. After a while, these guys came up, asked me I wanted to have a go at pool," he started grinning this huge grin. I couldn't help but to smile, he looked real happy at that moment.

" And five minutes in, I knew they were getting pissed, I was kicking their asses," I didn't deny it. Dean had always been good at games like that. Poker, Black Jack, Pool, you name it.

" They finally had enough, and they rounded on me, questioning me about cheating, so I told them I wasn't-which was the truth-" he added when both me and Bobby started to roll our eyes.

" An' Dad had come over by then, asking if their was a problem, and when they said I was cheating, me being cheeky, I said something smart," I was tempted to ask him what he said, but thought better of it.

" Before I go any further let me just say, in our defense, they threw the first punch," I groaned, putting my head in my hands. Of course it was his mouth that got them into a fight. I heard Bobby tell him that his mouth was going to cost him one day, and I couldn't agree more.

" Like I said, the biggest one threw the first punch, and I easily dodged it, a twisted his arm back, and held it there. The second one- who looked like a total druggie- threw a bottle at me, but Dad caught it and threw it right back, hitting the guy in the head and knocking his ass out. Dad went back to the bar, picked up his beer, finished it off, and then hit the guy I had pinned down on the head."

" We were kicked out after that, but we didn't care, we just laughed all the way back to the motel." he was laughing again, and I saw Bobby roll his eyes and smile.

" That's the only good memory I actually have, with just him and me," he spoke so quietly I almost didn't hear him, but I did. I saw Bobby's grin go away slightly, and he sent a pitying glance instead. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He coughed.

" Anyway," and Bobby took the hint and tried to change the conversation. He gestured us all back to the living room, saying how we should get comfortable because we wouldn't be leaving those spots for a long while. He sat in an armchair, while Dean and I sat on the couch.

" Okay, I don't know about you Sam, but I'd like some answers, and now would be the best time to do it," I nodded and he copied that motion, and went to staring at Dean, who wasn't looking at either of us.

" Dean, we can do this now, or we can do this later, but sooner than not, you're going to have to tell us,"

" Everything," I added, knowing he would skip the worst parts if he was able to. I wasn't about to let that happen.

I heard Dean sigh, and saw him lean back into the couch, most likely wishing he could sink right into it.

" Alright Gents, where should we begin?"

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPSNPSNSPNSNPSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNS**

SAM'S POV

Well, those were probably the worst two hours of my life, and I was sure Bobby could agree with me. He went to get himself a 'small' drink after Dean had finished, and he hasn't come back yet. That had been an hour ago. That left me sitting on the couch left in my own thoughts.

Dean had locked himself in the bathroom, and had been in there ever since I started screaming as loud as I could, challenging John to show his face, just so I could show him what I would do to him, with Bobby right on my tail. I'll admit that when I think back to some of the things I said, it made me want to turn green and throw up. so that's what I assumed Dean was doing when we first noticed he was gone. After five minutes of standing outside the bathroom and hearing no retching, or any noise of the matter, I knew he was in there just contemplating what he had just been forced to relive.

I had tried to get him to come out a few times, but only silence greeted me.

So that left me on the couch, stirring in my own thoughts.

_John had started abusing Dean the second he realized I was gone. He had always secretly hated my little brother, but with me around, he couldn't do anything about it. He blamed Dean for Mom's death, always had, and had then figured that he was a demon or something supernatural to haunt him with Mary's looks. He eventually thought, with that sick mind of his, that Mary was In Dean, therefore, he could have sex with it, and be with Mom. _

I couldn't keep thinking, or else I was going to be sick. He tried to rape Dean because he though it would give him a new connection with Mary. That's just sick. Sure, it's a no brainer that Dean looks like Mom, and is more like her than I'll ever be. If I was being honest, I looked like, and acted like, John. I came from my thoughts when I saw Bobby walk in, carrying a beer, a shot glass, and a full bottle of whiskey. He handed the beer to me and sat back in his armchair, opening up he whiskey for himself. I nodded my thanks, and went to take a drink when the bathroom door opened. Dean slowly walked out, looking uncertain, and my mind shot back to the night I left, that's how he looked back then when he came out of the bathroom. Uncertain, nervous, _afraid. _

He walked up and sat back next to me on the couch. When he got close enough, I looked at his face. His eyes were dull, slightly red, but there weren't any tear tracks on his face.

" You ok?" I knew it was a stupid question, but I couldn't help asking it. It was instinct.

He opened his mouth to speak, but there was a sudden rapping on the door that made him shut it. He looked at me, but I was looking at Bobby, who shrugged. Before I knew what was going on I saw Dean, with a gun, walk towards the door. After a moment he was out of my eyesight, due to the door being in the kitchen, and me in the living room. I heard him open it, and I heard him talk to someone for a moment, before laughing. I heard him shut the door.

" Hey Sam, get your ass in here!" I heard laughing, both from him and from whoever he welcomed in. It was weird, the laughter sounded familiar.

I quickly got up, and made my way to the kitchen. I walked in and stared.

There, in the kitchen, was Dean, talking to...

" Jess?"


	16. AN 2

_**So sorry for the long wait. I got into A LOT of trouble. But do not worry, I'm back.**_

_**I just have a few concerns/questions for you guys. **_

_**Should Jess die, being the elephant in the room. I mean, I'm having a very difficult time with this decision, so hopefully you folks can help me out. **_

_**Second, how is it? I know some of you are probably despising it, but hey, tell me anyways. What will make it better? What shouldn't I do? Help me out here people! Lol. **_

_** Sincerely,**_

_** USSA**_

_** Unknown Stranger Sees All. **_


	17. Chapter 17

_**Once again so sorry for the delay. I thought long and hard and I have come up with a decision. **_

_**Please don't hate me for the decisions I made.**_

_**I own nothing. **_

_**This isn't slash unless you want it to be**_

_**SAM'S POV**_

I can't believe it. I just can't. I don't even see how Jess was even able to get here. I never told her where we were going, so how? But here she was, smiling at me. She raised an eyebrow.

"Well, don't I get a kiss on the cheek at least?" I snap out of my daze to see her walk towards me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I hug her back after a few seconds.

" How did you get here?" she pulled back, and smiled.

"I have my ways," she said it calmly. I nodded, still unable to get my head wrapped around this. She turns back to Dean.

"I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced. Hi, I'm Jessica, call me Jess," she stuck out her hand, and I don't know why, but I had this sudden urge to smack Dean's hand away from hers. I didn't, though, and he shook it, a small grin on his face.

" Hey Jess, nice to meet you. The name's Dean," she grinned and not long after they separated hands. I still had that uneasy feeling. Jess seemed...off, for some reason. Like it's Jess, but then it's not.

" I know who you are, I've been searching for you for a long while now," Dean's smile faded and my uneasy feeling grew rapidly. What the fuck was she on about? She took a step towards him. He took a small step back. She wouldn't stop staring at him, and he was getting very uncomfortable. I could tell, I was too. She kept coming closer to him, and the more he backed up, the closer he came. Dean suddenly ran into the wall, Jess not very far away. She had this devilish smirk rise onto her usually peaceful features.

"What're you talking about?" Dean finally got out. His voice was steady, firm. But his eyes were full blown terror. He was _terrified_. Jess' smirk intensified.

"Well, it has been eighteen years, now hasn't it? We had to come and check up on our little protégé," she placed a hand on his arm, and he flinched. It took me a second to figure it out. That was the arm that was badly burned.

If it was even possible, that ear-to-ear smile of hers got even wider.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh Dean, you really are naïve. I've come here to get you, and take you back to where you really belong," before he could ask where that place was, she spoke again.

"I've come to take you back to the Yellow-Eyed Demon," he paled, and tried to back away, and realizing he was trapped, turned his gaze to me.

"Sammy what is she talking about?" he wasn't even trying to keep the terror from his voice. And I could barely keep the terror and anger from mine.

"Get the hell away from him Jess," I don't even know why I still called her that. This wasn't Jess. Jess was always happy, always smiling a gentle smile. This Jess was smiling like a possessed Cheshire Cat and cornered little brothers. I didn't like this Jess. At all.

She laughed a laugh that sent chills down my spine and a pit of dread in my stomach. I heard something in the other room move, but didn't process it.

" Oh Sammy, don't you realize? Jess isn't here anymore," 'Jessica's' eyes turned black. Shit. I heard that noise from the living room behind me get closer and louder and I suddenly realized what it was. Bobby.

He came into the room to see a powerful demon inside of a woman cornering Dean to the wall, and me confused about what the fuck I'm supposed to do here. Bobby seems to know, because he quickly throws some holy water on my girlfriend.

No, not girlfriend. She stopped being my girlfriend when I heard the raw terror in my little brother's voice. Now she was just a demon. I still wish I could've saved her. I snap out of my thought to see Bobby finish off what sounds like an incantation. I see "Jess" wither in pain, but only slightly. She stands back up and flashes Bobby and I a grin. One far worse than the others she's thrown around already.

" Tsk, tsk, boys. You should know better," she says in a mocking parental tone. She turns back to Dean, who is unfortunately still stuck between a rock and a hard place. She grabs his burned arm again. This time with an iron-vice grip. He yelped with pain, but that made her hold on tighter. He bit his lip to keep from crying out again.

"Now where was I? Oh yes, Dean? Time to-" she didn't get any further. Most likely because there was now a blade in her chest. It took me a minute to realize that. It took me another to realize that _I _was the one holding the blade that was _in _her chest. But it only took me a split second to realize that I didn't care. She collapsed, and I let go of the blade, and went to Dean.

He was pale, shaking, and looked like he was on the verge of collapse. Dean's eyes were downcast. Staring at the lifeless form of my old girlfriend. There was, once again, too many emotions in his eyes for me to pinpoint which ones were the stronger and which ones were the weaker emotions. I placed a hand on his uninjured shoulder as gently as I could. Slowly, he averted his gaze to me.

"Sam?" he whispered, and I nodded. I didn't know what to say. This was coming in a rush. Not only did I just find out that my brother has been abused for years, but I just met back up with my girlfriend. Only to realize she had been possessed. And that I was the one to kill her. What a weekend.

"I'm sorry," I looked at him, he was shaking even worse now, and I figured he was going to lose it. I still didn't get it. Why was he apologizing?

"I'm so sorry. God I'm-" he broke off with a sob, and fell to his knees beside the frozen still form of my girlfriend. I kneeled down next to him, looking back up at Bobby for hopefully some advice.

" Get him upstairs. Try to settle him in before he hyperventilates. I'll take care of her," I nodded, helping Dean up when I stood. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders carefully, and started to guide him upstairs. I paused when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned my head slightly to get a small glimpse at Bobby.

"I'm sorry, Sam," he squeezed my shoulder before letting it go. I nodded, even though he couldn't see me, and continued to lead my little brother up the steps.


	18. Chapter 18

_**Hope the last chapter wasn't too bad...**_

_**Kripke owns it all, I only own the plot. Kinda**_

_**Sam's POV**_

By the time we got upstairs, Dean was a mess. Tears streaming down his face, and he was shaking so bad I thought I was going to lose the hold I had on him. I sat him down on the bed he usually chose when we stayed here, and sat next to him. He was still whispering 'I'm Sorry' over and over and it made my heart heavy.

"Hey," I whispered, trying to get him to look at me. He did. His usually vibrant, bright green eyes were now bloodshot, and dull.

"Stop apologizing, okay? None of this is your fault," I wiped some of his tears away, but he didn't look convinced.

"She wasn't Jess. Jess was already gone, okay. Kiddo you have to believe me," he made a movement with his head, and I could only name it as a nod. I gave him a sad smile, and rubbed his arm for whatever comfort I could manage right now. He was nodding off, and it wasn't long before his head was lying on my shoulder, fast asleep. Trying my best not to wake him, I set him all the way down so that he was lying in bed, rather than sitting. I watched for a minute or two, making sure he wouldn't wake up. then I silently left, gently shutting the door behind me.

I walked down to the kitchen, noticing a spotless floor, and no dead Jess. I saw Bobby shutting the door behind him. He jumped when he saw me.

"Jesus! Are you trying to give an old man a heart attack?" I smiled at him, but couldn't help but to ask.

"What happened to the body?" he was silent for a good minute or so before answering.

"Called in a favor, old friend of mine's gonna take her home, play it out as a cop," I nodded. That was fine with me. He came closer and place a hand on my shoulder.

"How are you holding up?" I shrugged, not really wanting to start this conversation right now, but answered nonetheless.

"I'll be alright. It's Dean I'm worried about. Bobby, what does Dean have to do with the thing that killed Mom?" he stilled, looking as confused as ever.

"Nothing that I know of, why? Did the demon say something? Don't forget, Demons lie," I nodded, I knew that. Yeah, that's all it was. Just lying, trying to scare him, trying to scare me.

"Yeah, you're probably right. But J- I mean, the demon," I corrected, and before he could catch me on my mistake, I continued.

"Said that it was going to take Dean to him, the Yellow-Eyed Demon," I could hear the small layer of worry come from my voice. I knew Bobby heard it too. His grip on my shoulder tightened.

"Don't worry, Sam, nothing can get him here, I'm going out now, re-checking the salt lines. Why don't you go get some sleep?" I nodded, and he let go of my shoulder.

"Goodnight Bobby," I saw him nod and wave when he was turning for the door. I paused for a second, before heading up the stairs. I needed some sleep. When I reached the top of the stairs, I grabbed my bag and walked into the bathroom to change. I came back out a few minutes later, wearing sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. I shot a glance at Dean while walking to my own bed. He was still asleep, his breathing slow and deep, no longer short and ragged. The tear tracks on his face were still visible, but they were drying. He looked calm, at peace with the world. As if everything that just happened, didn't just happen. And boy did I wish none of this ever happened. Except, seeing Dean again, that was nice, despite the circumstances.

When I reached by bed, I pulled the old quilt back and lied down, pulling the quilt back up. I saw a light outside the window, and saw the familiar figure of Bobby walking along the house and garage, a bag of salt in hand. I felt my gaze turn towards the windowsill, double-checking the salt lines that were always placed there. They were there, like always, still strong, no gaps or holes in the trail. I nodded my acceptance, and glanced at Dean one more time before shutting off the lamp on the nightstand, and letting my eyes fall closed.

Hoping tomorrow wasn't as bad as today.


	19. Chapter 19

_**sorry the last chapter was so short. I'll be sending in chapter like crazy, trying to make up for lost time.**_

_**Kripke owns these amazing characters, I only own plot. **_

_**I own nothing, and probably never will. *Throws pot at wall***_

_**OUTSIDER'S POV**_

When Dean wakes up, he doesn't even know where he is. He recalls that little incident on the highway, showing up at Bobby's, and then unfortunately having to retell tales that made his skin crawl and stomach flop.

Then he remembers everything else.

He put his head in his hands, stifling a groan that was coming up. He felt terrible. No, scratch that. Terrible wasn't the right word. It was too good, too innocent. Until he could think of a better word for how he felt, he'd go with despicable. His older brother's girlfriend, who he had never even met, but seemed to make Sam so happy, was dead. Had somehow gotten possessed by a demon, and a strong one at that. He knew it was his fault, not caring what Sam, or Bobby would say. No matter what either of them ever said, it was his fault. He just knew it.

Dean turned his head when he heard blankets being ruffled. He caught sight of his older brother, thrown out all over the bed. He had an arm across his face, a leg over the side, and was almost completely horizontal. Dean felt himself smile at that, imagining Sam falling off of the bed. He rolled his eyes and quickly, but quietly, got out of bed. He made his way over to his brother's side and, as silently and as carefully as he could, lifted Sam's leg back up on the bed. After making sure he wasn't going to wake up, he silently headed downstairs. He went to the kitchen and found Bobby sitting with a cup of coffee. He glanced up upon Dean's arrival and gave him a small grunt of 'Good Morning'. Dean nodded his good morning, and went to get himself a cup of coffee, then proceeded to sit down across from the older hunter. Dean glances outside and catches a small glimpse of the Impala. He winces, and tells Bobby he's going out to fix his car.

"Be careful, make sure you're in seeing range when Sam wakes up, or he'll have a coronary," Dean smiles at Bobby and nods, saying he will be, and steps out into the cold morning air.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

OUTSIDER'S POV

Sam wakes up an hour and a half after Dean stepped outside, and when he turns to see Dean's bed empty, he tries really hard not to panic. He knows he's probably being a little dramatic now, but last night took a toll on him, and he had made sure he would do one thing:

Not let Dean out of his sight for a long while.

He tried to ignore the worrymthat was steadily growing inside if him, but after a few minutes, (seconds), he shoots out of bed and practically flies down the stairs. He sees Bobby with a newspaper, and no Dean.

"Where's Dean?" he didn't bother to try to keep the worry from his voice, if anything, he was glad it was there. Bobby took one look at him to know he wasn't going to calm the fuck down without knowing where his brother was. So when Bobby calmly gestured towards the repair garage with his head, he wasn't surprised to see a large, blurry mass of Sam run out the door.

Sam pretty much runs to the repair garage. When he goes in and sees no little brother, his worry goes up a notch. He looks around the Impala, not seeing the familiar figure of dark blonde hair, and green eyes. He's on the verge of screaming his brother's name, when he steps on something.

"Ow!" Sam almost has a heart attack. He looks down to see his own feet standing on a leg. Or two. He quickly steps back, kneels down on his knees, puts a hand on the ankle, and pulled. A second later, he's staring at the familiar dark blonde hair and green eyes. He ignores the fact that said familiar green eyes are glaring at him. He was too busy checking his brother over.

Dean looks fine, besides the motor oil on his face and in his hair. Sam breathes a relieved sigh, before pulling himself up.

"What the hell are you doing under there?" Sam asks when Dean pulls himself up as well, wiping most of oil off of his face with the t-shirt he had on earlier. Only it was now bunched up in his hand, and covered in oil and grease.

"Just double checking everything," he pauses, then gestures towards the Impala. Which, Sam just realized, is completely fixed. Not a scratch on her.

"Fixed it up while you were having your beauty sleep, Dean said with a smirk, easily dodging the wrench that was thrown towards his head.

"Shut up," Sam growls, but there's no heat in it. Dean rolls his eyes, but keeps the smile on his face.

"What? While you were sleeping Princess, I managed to fix our car, and one Bobby had here," he gestures again, this time to a deep blue Mustang. Sam doesn't say anything, but he's impressed with what Dean can do. If he could fix a car that Bobby couldn't, Sam would call that talent. _He would've gone to college for that, fixing cars, _Sam thought. He mentally grimaced. Dean would've gone to college for a lot of things. Hell, he still could, if he'd let Sam take him out of this life. Sam knew it was a long shot.

" C'mon, Bobby will be glad to know you fixed one his cars," he said with a smile. When Dean was close enough, he wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He saw his brother give him a look from the corner of his eye, but Dean didn't comment.

When they got back to the house, they saw Bobby in the living room, reading a newspaper. He saw Sam and Dean come in, and set the paper down.

"How did the car turn out?" he asked as soon as they sat down.

"Fixed the Impala. She's as good as new," he saw Bobby nod.

"That's good," the older man said. Dean nodded, then proceeded to take a curved piece of jagged metal from his jeans' pocket, and handed it to Bobby. He took it, and then looked back to the youngest man in the room.

"What's this?" he honestly didn't have a clue. He doubted this came from their car.

"That's what was wrong with that blue Mustang in the shop," Bobby's eyes widened, but Dean didn't notice. Sam did.

" Damn kid, that's some good work. I've had that thing at least two months, haven't been able to find out what was wrong. You did good," Dean nodded his thanks, but Sam saw the small bit of pride he got from the praise. And Sam was once again mentally killing their father. He wouldn't have ever complimented his brother. Even if he saved the world, John wouldn't have praised him.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

OUTSIDER'S POV

Hours had passed, and before anyone knew it, they had all gone to bed. Bobby had gone first, after getting tired of losing to the boys at poker. (He swore they were ganging up on him.) A half hour later Dean had gone up, Sam trailing behind not much later. So there the three men were, all passed out in their respective beds.

None of them aware of the pickup truck pulling in.

SWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDW

OUTSIDER'S POV

John Winchester pulled into Singer's Salvage Yard a little past one o'clock in the morning. It was still black out, so he knew he could do this simple. Quick in and out. He had gotten himself in a bit of trouble with a witch, (explaining where he was in the tape he gave the demon.) Despite the fact the witch had been rather violent, he never needed help. He wanted his only son, (No, he no longer gave Dean the title of son, he only had one,) to help him kill the demon. He knew that the Demon "Son" he had been responsible for his beloved wife's death, and he wanted her avenged.

Now was the perfect time for it.

He unlocked the doors like a pro, because he pretty much was, and opened it up a bit, just enough for him to fit through. He remembered all the traps his old friend placed on the floors and walls, so he went through those like a pro as well. He walked up the steps, carefully avoiding the ones that creaked rather loudly, and made it to the top in no time.

He saw _It._

He saw the Demon sleeping there, and not far from the Demon's sleeping form, on another bed, there was his son. He pitied his son, he really did. He just won't let it through to his thick skull that he never had a real little brother. It was always a demon that he should have just killed from the beginning. He walked over to the demon's bed as stealthily as he could. He pulled the silver blade out from the sheath that had been hidden in his belt. He thought about waking up his son, but thought better of it. He raised the dagger slowly, carefully, and was just about to plunge it deep into the chest of the monster when...

"Hmm? What's going HOLY SHIT!" the demon exclaimed, taking John off guard. With John in the surprised stupor, Dean ran up to Sam's side, who somehow, didn't wake up from Dean's exclamation. He shook his brother's shoulder as fast and as hard as he could. Before he forced back by the shoulder and slammed into the wall. Blade up to his throat.

"I've waited a long time for this, Demon," John sneered, pressing the dagger just a bit closer to Its throat. The eldest (awake) Winchester easily dodged the punched and kicks the Monster sent his way. Despite it being black out, the window in the boys' room had a perfect glow from the moonlight. And from where John and Dean stood, it showed off Dean's features rather well. It showed off the pure raw terror and horror in his green eyes. The ones that looked just like Mary's...

John shut his eyes tight and shook his head quickly, trying to get Mary's terrified non-seeing eyes out from is head. Looking down on him, looking afraid. Just like how the Thing did now.

"Stop it! Stop taunting me with her looks! This ends now!"

And with that, Johnathon Winchester pushed away from his so-called "son", and pulled the dagger away from his throat. Only to aim it right at the Thing's chest. Right at Its heart.

He pushed the dagger forward.


	20. Chapter 20

**Sorry for the cliffhanger. I am evil :)**

**I own nothing, it belongs to Kripke. **

**OUTSIDER'S POV.**

_Aimed at Its heart..._

John Winchester aimed the knife at the being's heart, and pushed it forwards. Right when the tip touched the skin of the Demon's chest, he felt a strong force pull him back and away from the monster, and slam him into the next wall over.

"You DON'T fucking touch him!" the voice of his son growled so dangerously, that it actually sent shivers down the other man's spine. John pushed Sam away forcefully, and headed back towards his "son". He aimed the dagger again, only to get forcefully thrown away from it again and this time, was trapped.

"I said you Don't. Fucking. Touch. Him." John felt something on his wrists and realized that his son had gotten rope. While he was silently wondering how and where he got the rope, Sam had finished tying his hands up behind his back. When Sam was positive his father couldn't get away, he ran to his brother, who looked to be on the verge of a panic attack.

"Hey Dean, you with me? It's okay, he can't hurt you now," Sam soothed, or at least attempted to. Dean didn't seem to be able to hear him, already lost in his mind. Sam couldn't blame him. He gently placed his hands on his little brother's shoulders, and when Dean didn't flinch, Sam pulled him towards himself. He absentmindedly rocked, whispering things to his brother that he hoped would reassure him that he was, in fact, safe. Now.

"Hey, shh, it's alright. He can't get you now, okay? You're safe, I won't let him get you," Sam whispered this mantra over and over, until he was sure Dean wasn't going to have a panic attack, or hyperventilate. After a few moments, Dean pulled away slightly, not fully out of his older brother's embrace, but not fully in, either. Just enough to talk to him.

"Sam?"

"Yeah Dean?"

"Did you take the knife away?" Sam just now remembered the knife, he shot a quick glance at their 'father'. His hands were still tied, but he seemed to be trying to grab the dagger with his feet and cut himself free. Sam reluctantly set Dean down, and walked back over to John. John looked at him when he kneeled down to take away the weapon.

"What's wrong with you, Sam? Why aren't you killing that thing? It deserves to die," John said with so much disgust in his voice that Sam almost killed him right then. But he wanted to remember it. And he knew Bobby would be ticked at him if he did it without him. He deserved a little revenge, too. Instead, he kicks the handheld weapon away from the thing he once called Dad, and punched him in the gut. While he bent down due to the pain, Sam slammed his head back against the wall so hard John passed out, falling limp on the floor. Sam still didn't untie him. He walked back over to Dean, and gently helped him up.

Sam felt very overprotective right now. Below that was guilt. He had just awakened from his slumber when a gravelly voice said 'This ends now!'. It had taken a split second to match the voice to the person, and when he did, he jumped out of bed as fast as he could, only to see his father about to end his little brother. He had ran over in a speed that would make a roadrunner jealous, but to Sam, it wasn't fast enough.

He now held his little brother, and saw that the middle of the front of Dean's shirt was darker than the rest of it. With the grip he had on his brother never faltering, he led him downstairs, and into the bathroom.

He sat Dean down on the closed toilet seat, and grabbed the first aid kit from the top shelf. He opened it up, taking out some gauze and disinfectant, and after a second thought, took out a needle and thread. Just in case. He turned back to his brother, to see him staring at the darkened spot on his shirt. He looked up a few seconds later, eyes slowly filling up with tears.

"He was going to kill me," Sam didn't know how or what to respond to that with, so he did what he thought was the second best thing. He wrapped his arms around his brother, and held him tight.

Wishing this was just a nightmare.


	21. Chapter 21

**_hope the last few chapter weren't that bad..._**

_wishing this was all a dream..._

OUTSIDER'S POV

Sam was still holding Dean close to him when he fell asleep, unaware that Dean had fallen asleep only minutes after he had been in Sam's arms.

And that's how Bobby found them in the morning, with Sam still sleeping against the wall, with Dean also fast asleep in his arms. Bobby takes a good look at both of them, and knows something isn't right. Sam had his arms wrapped around Dean in a way that clearly states, even to the unknown stranger, that if someone so much as tries to move Dean, their arm is going to come off, and become that tool they would then get hit with.

Bobby knows better than to even try to move Dean, so he decides to try with Sam. The results aren't good, but they aren't as bad as they could've been.

Sam jerks awake, the arms that were wrapped around his brother wrapped even tighter around him, and Sam's eyes glinted so dangerously that Bobby backed up a few feet. Sam relaxes when he notices that it's only Bobby, but doesn't remove his arms from Dean.

"Sam, are you alright? What happened?" he knew the answer to his first question was a no, (why else would they be asleep on the floor?), so he hoped he could get a good answer from the second.

Sam shakes his head, looking down at Dean with what could only be described as overprotective fondness. He gently cards a hand through Dean's hair.

"No, something happened last night," he whispered, and pulled Dean closer, if that was even possible. Bobby narrowed his eyes.

"John's passed out upstairs," Bobby's narrowed eyes grew wider and wider with each second Sam spoke.

"What?!"

"He...he almost killed Dean. And I was fucking sleeping. He could've killed him, and I wouldn't have known, cause I wouldn't fucking wake up," Sam broke off after that, too overcome with emotion to continue. Bobby was fine with that, he heard enough. He patted Sam's shoulder, telling him softly to go sit and wait for him in the living room. When he saw Sam stand up, still not letting Dean go, he walked up the stairs.

He walked to the boys' room, noticing the shut door, he opened it up, and stepped inside.

At first, he didn't see anything, but he felt something.

He felt a sharp, almost excruciating pain in his side. With a grumbled curse, he went down on a knee, clutching his side with both of his hands. They came back bloody. He heard someone walk up to his injured side.

"I don't see why you help him, he's a monster. We hunt monsters, and we _kill_ them," Bobby's eyes widened. That really was John Winchesters voice. John started walking in a circle around him, it pissed Bobby right off.

"He ain't no demon, you idgit. He's your son," John stopped moving in a circle. He stopped moving all together. Bobby wouldn't have been surprised if he stopped breathing. Nonetheless, John's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he strode toward his old friend. He bent down, and punched the still bleeding wound on the older man's side. Bobby couldn't help the mangled scream that came from him.

"You listen and you listen good Singer, I only have one son, and that one son is Sam. My poor boy had already been corrupted by that Thing," he spoke the last words with enough disgust and hatred that it could probably have a poltergeist go running. Bobby's kept his mouth shout, not sure if he would be able to talk without another scream coming from him. So John continued.

"Maybe to the point of no return, I can't let it get you too. I need help to kill it, it killed Mary, Bobby!" He was almost yelling by the end of it. Bobby couldn't stop shaking his head, even if he wanted to. He couldn't believe he would ever be friends with someone like this. A man who abused his youngest son almost to death, and then claimed he wasn't even his son. He truly was a fucked up man.

"Fine, then," John growled. He pressed a hand into Bobby's bloody side once more, this time with more force, and Bobby would be lying if he said he didn't gasp and scream a few curse words along the way.

"I'll get rid of It myself," he whispered, and with one glance back at his old friend, bleeding out on the floor, he walked down the stairs. Intending to finish what he should've eighteen years ago.

Kill the beast that killed his Mary.


	22. Chapter 22

_**sorry for the wait, I've been having wifi problems. **_

_**I own nothing. **_

SAM'S POV

I was sitting on the couch waiting for Bobby when I heard the scream. I didn't think anything of it at first, but when it happened again a few minutes later, I placed Dean, who was still asleep, on the couch, and started towards the stairs. I didn't have any weapons on me, but I am taller than my father, so I'll have a small advantage. I had just started up the stairs when I heard someone walk down them. I looked up to see...

"John, what did you do to Bobby," I may or may not have growled dangerously. He looked somewhat surprised to see me, but when he finally registered that I was there, he gave me a smile. I wanted to punch it right off of his face.

"Sam, come on boy we have work to do," he said it with a quiet tone, but it still had that drill sergeant voice mixed in with it. He walked right past me, and walked right into the living room.

_Right where Dean was..._

I ran after him, to see him walk right towards Dean.

"Don't go anywhere near him," I said, and to give him the slightest bit of credit, he stopped.

"I have to do this Sam, it killed your mother," he said it low, and said it as if it was a fact.

"No, He didn't," I emphasized the word He when I spoke. Him calling Dean it, or thing, or monster, was really pissing me right off.

"Yes, Sam. Don't you see? The Demon has been-" I may or may not have snapped right then.

I slammed him up against the wall, leaving his arms pinned down at his sides. Him calling my little brother Demon, really pissed me off.

"No! No you don't, HE isn't a demon, or a monster! He's your SON!" he tried to push me off, I just held on tighter.

"And I don't like the way you've treated him while I've been gone," he stopped struggling and even paled a little, and I knew he knew he was caught.

"That's right, I know everything. They way you've talked to him, the way you've hit him, the way you've tried to _touch _him,"

"Lies," he said. "The thing is lying!" I let him go, only to kick him in the stomach hard enough to knock him down. While he's gasping for breath, I kneel down next to him.

"Bullshit," I whisper, and I can't help it, I punch him. His eye already starting to form a bruise. I guess I look as dangerous as I feel, because he starts backing up against the closet wall. When he backs up to it, and has no where else to go, I go in.

I punch and kick as hard as I possibly could. I stop only once, only to check on my hand to make sure I didn't break it on the last punch that had been thrown. Right in the jaw. When I look to him, he's a bloody mess. I'll clean it later.

"How.. C-could...you?" he manages to get out in between gasping for breath and spitting out wads of blood.

I let out a bitter chuckle.

"How could I? How could I?!" he flinches away when I start yelling.

"The real question is how COULD YOU?!"

"HOW COULD YOU, abuse your SON?! HOW COULD YOU, starve him almost to DEATH!? HOW COULD YOU-" I hadn't realized I had started crying until I choked on my words. Falling on my knees, I hang my head. The tears haven't subsided yet, so they just keep flowing down my face.

I didn't notice John stand up.

I didn't hear him walk towards me.

I didn't see him unsheathe another blade.

I didn't see him raise it, until...


	23. Chapter 23

_**Hahah! I love leaving you guys in the shadows... sorry. **_

_**I own nothing.**_

SAM'S POV

_I didn't see him unsheathe another blade, until..._

**_'BANG..BANG!' _**

I look up to see John, holding a blade pointed straight down at me, get two bullets shot into his chest.

And when I turn to where I heard the gun go off, I turn to see Dean, standing not far from the couch, with a smoking gun in his shaky hands. I run to him without a second thought, or glance, at our father, who I hear fall to the ground. Dean is pale, and has a death grip on the gun, but he drops it when I'm in reaching distance. Once I'm in reaching distance, he drops the gun and grips on to my shoulders.

''I...I killed him,'' he whispers. I only nod, what else can I do? No matter how much I try to block his view, he still stares at the dead figure of our father.

"Oh my god, Sammy...I think...I think I'm going to be sick," he pushes out of my grasp, running to the bathroom. I run after him, and find him kneeling next to the toilet, hurling his brains out it seems.

"Bobby..." he manages to get out, before going green and puking again. '

"Be right back," I whisper, and run up the steps.

"Bobby, you alright?" I can't see him, but I can hear him breathing kind of heavily.

"I'll be alright boy, just let me get downstairs, I need a bandage or two," he says. I finally see his figure in the dark, slightly hunched over.

He only glares at me when I try to help him, so I start walking down the steps to recheck on Dean.

He stopped throwing up, but he was still shaking and pale, and still sitting in the bathroom, eyes closed.

"Hey," I whisper, "You alright?" he shakes his head.

"I killed him," he said, his voice sounding much younger than it usually does.

" You saved my life," I respond. He shakes his head.

"What happens now?" he asks. I walk over and sit next to him on the bathroom floor.

"We keep fighting, keep going on. Maybe get out of this life, take a break for awhile," I whisper softly. He leans his head on my shoulder and nods.

"I'd like that. A break, at least for a little while," I smile a little.

"Okay,"

That was fine with me. After all of this, he needs a break. And I'll stay with him all the way.

Dean and I against the world. How it always was.

How it always should be.

_**~Finish~**_

_**Okay, my very first completed story! **_

_**If anyone wants me to do one shot spin offs to this I'll be more than happy to. Just PM me or review. You guys have been the best readers and reviewers. **_

_**Love y'all. If I had a heart.**_


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